Hunger Games: Vengeance
by imaginationsdaydreamsandwords
Summary: Sequel to 'Hunger Games: Next Generation'. Everyone is back, and they all have plans to make people pay. The wrath of revenge is stronger, and it's coming from all sides. Enemies on enemies. Allies on allies. There are no friends or foes. There will be death, pain, sacrifice, loss. Nobody is safe. Or trusted. Especially when the Capitol is also making its own plans for vengeance...
1. Chapter 1

Author Note:

To whoever clicked this story because they thought the summary was interesting, or because they were simply bored: this story is the sequel to the fanfic, _Hunger Games: Next Generation_. If you haven't read it, I suggest you do, so you can understand this story. If you have, then welcome back to Lanie and Nyal's world!

* * *

_Money doesn't buy you happiness. Take me for an example._

**Chapter One- Nyal POV**

"Shut up, Peyton," I muttered into the mouthpiece. I didn't know why she thought it was any of her business. I knew how I felt. I didn't have to tell her. She wasn't my mother or anything.

Half way through her sentence, I realised that I didn't have to listen to her crap. I slammed the phone into its holder. Then, just to make sure, I walked over to the door and clicked the lock shut. It probably wouldn't deter her, seeming that she'd ignored everything I'd said that had the word 'fine' in it. But it would delay her. Long enough for me to wallow for a little while more.

"Avoiding Peyton again?" my mother asked, peering around the corner from the room she was in. Her hands were wet, and she was wearing a white, frilly apron on top of a light blue dress. In one hand, she held a wooden spoon.

We were no longer at our old house- since when did that house have rooms? Or since when did we have dresses? Or aprons, for that matter?

"Obviously."

"You can't avoid her forever," she said.

"I can avoid her until the Victory tours." Whoever chose the names for all the Hunger Games crap obviously wasn't a Victor.

"But that's _rude_," Julia chimed in as she struggled to stand up from the red sofa. Her feet dangled off the ground when she sat on it.

"So is messing with my business."

I stormed across the lavish hall to the red-carpeted stairs. I climbed them two at a time. Curse this stupid house. Curse the big spaces that make it harder for me to cross on my way to my room.

When I finally made it, I slammed the door shut and turned the lock on the golden knob. The sight of my own bedroom sickened me.

As did the sight of Peyton.

"Get out," I growled.

"You are so moody. Keyann was so much happier when he was alive."

The sound of his name sent blood rushing to my head in waves. "Get the hell out of m-this house." I had been about to say _my_ house, but it wasn't. Curse everything that the Capitol gave.

"Only when you listen to me."

I knew, just by the way that she crossed her arms, that she wasn't going anywhere.

"Stupid-" I muttered. I opened the door and flew down the stairs in three bounds. If she wasn't going to get out of the house, then I was.

Curse this stupid house, I said again, as I flung the door open and headed outside.

"Don't come back too late," my mother called.

Maybe I won't come back at all, I replied bitterly.

The Victor's Village, curse it, was a five minute walk away from the town. I didn't like the seclusion, but the builders probably thought it would be better away from the coal mines and the smoke. I _liked_ the smoke. It reminded me of home.

Home. Was there such a thing?

No. Not since _she_ died.

Lanie.

My throat thickened. I tried to tell myself that the pricking in my eyes was due to the smoke, not the sadness.

It didn't work. Obviously.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did Lanie have to be so damn caring? I would have preferred it if she'd been a bitch to everyone. At least she wouldn't have gone off, searching for bombs and detonating them.

"Hey, Nyal, where are you headed?" Jane asked. It wasn't strange to find her here, away from town. Probably headed to see me again.

I didn't like Jane. Most of the reason was because she seemed joyful about the fact that Lanie wasn't one of the four victors. Too joyful. That and the fact that she liked me.

"Alone," I replied curtly. I hastened my speed. It wasn't a fitting answer, but it fitted enough for me.

When I had woken up in the Capitol building, I wish I hadn't. I knew that Lanie hadn't survived that bomb, tough as she was. I wished I had ripped out the needles that were trying to keep me alive and starved myself to death. But I couldn't. I was restrained and force-fed by an Avox that wasn't too gentle with the spoon.

I avoided the people in the town square. I didn't like the pity they gave. I didn't like anything at all, nowadays. Maybe I didn't know how to like anything anymore.

Depressed? I was an example of the deepest misery.

I turned off and kept walking until I met the electric fence. I cast a brief glance behind me to see if anyone was following. I wanted to be alone, and Manley the Peacekeeper seemed to be paying more attention on my tail- the tail of a famous forbidden child. The fence wasn't humming, so I climbed it to the other side. My shoes landed on the dirt.

Finally. I was home. Or as close to home that I could get.

I kept my march until I was deep enough into the woods to not be followed. Then I let it out. Let the anger, the pain, the tearing, searing, mind-burning agony to the world.

My scream scared all the birds out of their nests.

It took about an hour for me to calm down. That was why it was hard to cry. I couldn't stop.

I climbed back over the fence, my eyes slightly red. I shoved my hands into my pockets to hide the cuts I'd made by punching the trees. Sarah would fuss over them, as always.

Of course, I wasn't the only one suffering. Thomas was, too. Sometimes I'd go with him to place a flower on Lanie's grave, while he laid one on her father's. She was buried next to him.

We avoided her house, though. Neither of us could take it. Sometimes I'd just stand outside, hoping that Lanie would come out, green eyes bright and her red hair being tousled lightly by the breeze. Her smile would be the way it was before the arena. I curled my hands into fists at the memory of her face.

"Nyal! Nice day today, huh?" Ingo asked. He had a sack of flour on his shoulders, on his way to the bakery.

I supposed that it was a good day. I never really noticed 'good' between 'bad' anymore. They had no meaning. Not since she was gone.

I shrugged in response.

Sarah and Thomas now lived in the house with us, taking up all the space that I didn't like. It was the only way I could live with Julia, seeming that she was their 'daughter'.

"Jane was looking for you," Ingo said.

I nodded to acknowledge what he'd said.

I decided that I'd had enough of town, with people greeting me and all. I slouched back toward the Victor's Village.

My steps slowed as I walked past _her_ house. My heart gave a painful squeeze and before I could continue to walk on, I noticed it.

Her window was open.

**It's only been a couple of days, but I've missed writing on this website. Finally, the sequel is out! I know, it's only short, and I've promised to explain the last chapter of my previous Hunger Games fanfic, but more will be explained in the next chapter. It's in Lanie's POV!**

**I'm trying to make the chapters longer, but time flies.**

**Reviews? :)**


	2. Chapter 2

_When will I ever be free?_

**Chapter Two- Lanie POV**

Tears dripped down my face in plentiful amounts as I stared at the letter in my hand. And at his neat, elegant handwriting.

_Dear Lanie,_

_It upsets me to think about the circumstances that bring you to read this, my daughter. It also saddens me to know that the reason you are reading this now, and that means that I have left you._

_I am sorry._

_I know that I have no time to explain to you, so I decided to write a letter. It comforts me to know that my advice, or, in your words, ' an old man's wise words', is forever on paper for you to look at._

_First of all, most importantly, I love you. I will always be with you, whether or not you think I am gone._

_Second of all, there is something that I want you to have, something that had been kept at close guard within our family for years and years. It dates back to the time of Katniss Everdeen and the Rebellion._

_But before that, I must reveal to you the importance of our lineage. You have always been curious. What made you more curious were the replies to your question. "Why later? Why not now?" you always would ask._

_The answer to your question lies in the key. Show it to Teah along with this letter, and she will know what to do._

_Lastly, the present. As well as my silver key, I want you to keep another one of my most closely guarded possessions. When you find out your lineage, ask her for your inheritance. She will give it to you._

_Once again, I love you. More than words can say._

_From your father._

When I noticed that my tears had fallen on his letter, I carefully dried them and folded the paper. I placed it in my pocket.

I stood up with a sigh. My father knew me so well. Well enough to leave me with something that gave me reason to live. He'd not only given me something to do, he'd given me a mystery that I had no choice but to answer.

I left my pack at the moss-covered rock that I had been sitting on. I knelt on the mud that surrounded the lake and drank, cupping the water in my hands and sipping. I shivered as the water, cool even in the slight warmth of the day, slid down my throat.

I coughed. For three seconds, I stayed in that position, then I shook my head as it had threatened to relive the memories. During that three seconds, the water became still, and it was a major mistake for me to look into the water and see my reflection.

I smashed my fist into the water, sending droplets everywhere. In my ear, the earpiece crackled as Teah breathed nervously into the microphone.

"Lanie, are you okay?"

"Perfectly fine. I'm super." The sarcasm was slightly marred as the words were spat through my gritted teeth.

Teah was more overprotective than N- _him_. Wouldn't let me go anywhere without the earpiece. She stayed in the hovercraft that was always two seconds away just in case I needed help. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_, could help my situation.

I was supposed to be dead. They rescued me, whisked me away while I was still alive. They operated on me, changing my genes so my appearance was altered. No one could recognise me. I pretended to be someone else. I couldn't go near anyone that could possibly find out who I was, like Julia, or Peyton…

Or Nyal.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my pack and set out to hunt.

Bad enough that I spent most of my day and night in district thirteen. Years ago, people in district thirteen dispersed, spread to other districts as thirteen was shut down. But when the Hunger Games was brought back to life, several families fled to district thirteen, keen to not let their children be slaughtered on live television. They became part of the secret society. There were the Forbidden Children, and there were the Forbidden Society. Simple enough.

Only a couple dozen people lived in district thirteen, though. Most of them were Forbidden Children that had gone into hiding and had grown up. Others were part of the society but undercover in the outside world. A couple dozen people, if you didn't count the others.

Rica, it seemed, was a member. Rica introduced Teah to the society. Now I was part of it too. Even though I didn't want to be.

It wasn't like I had much of a choice.

I searched the ground. Finding a pebble the size of my thumb, I launched it at a tree. I'd spotted bird nests there earlier. As expected, several birds, grooslings, fluttered out of the leaves in a panic. Only four made it out. The other three fell to the ground with my arrow in them.

I placed them in my pack, next to the two squirrels, five fish, bag of greens and small sack of fruits. Even though district thirteen had fortnightly packages delivered to them for their needs, I had the urge to hunt. But not in district thirteen. It was too easy, with all the unknowing animals. I wanted district twelve.

So here I was, hunting in the woods. On the other side of the fence. Only a thousand feet away from my home but still unable to go.

Something rustled over to my left. I nocked an arrow and aimed it in that direction. I caught a fleeting glimpse of brown fur and big brown eyes.

"Doe," I breathed.

I found another pebble and sent it through the bushes. It took off, rocketing through the forest. I ran after it, leaping over tree roots and ducking under branches.

It paused suddenly, cocking its head for any noises. I hid behind a tree, trying to keep my fast breathing to a quiet whisper. Luckily the wind was going in the right direction.

Peeking from behind the tree, I aimed my arrow for its eye. Taking a deep breath, I pulled back the string. The doe unwarily wandered over to a bush, taking its time.

Perfect.

I had just began to release the string, when a scream rent the air in two.

The doe darted off into the woods, my arrow missing its target and burying itself in the doe's flank. I whirled around, forgetting about my escaped prey.

Why… why did that scream sound so familiar? Heart hammering, I stepped toward the direction of the noise.

The scream hadn't been one of fear, but one of pain. I knew it. How many times had I screamed like that since I'd woken up changed and different?

On the other end, it was quiet as Teah held her breath.

I stumbled as my brain gave contradicting messages to parts of my body. I became successful in taking two steps forward.

"Lanie, stay right there. Don't move, we're coming to get you."

"No, I'm fine."

"You have no idea who that might have been. It's too dangerous to go exploring. Stay right there, do you hear me?"

I wrenched the earpiece out of my ear and tossed it to the ground. No Teah, I can't hear you.

And what did she mean by exploring? I was at home. I knew every inch of the forest.

But knowledge didn't seem enough for me, as the clearing was empty when I reached it.

There were signs of damage, broken branches, scattered leaves and messed up gouges in the ground from footsteps. All human, I could tell. No animals had contributed to this.

The birds were quiet, and then the leaves started to flutter in one crazy seizure-like dance. There was a loud humming. The humming of a hovercraft.

No! I wasn't ready to go yet!

I ran out of the clearing faster than if I was being chased by a mutt. I leapt over tree roots and bushes with extreme speed, headed for where I knew the fence would be. I could sense Teah's frustration, and that spurred me on.

I searched the sky while I ran, looking for signs of the hovercraft.

This resulted in me almost smashing into the fence.

I managed to put on the brakes, and when I was sure that there was no hum of electricity, I climbed through the wires.

What was I doing here? Was I stupid? District twelve was a small town, no one here would recognise me. That would result in questions. In gossip. I knew my district well enough that a stranger's appearance would be red-hot news with the pregnant mothers of the town.

Nothing had changed much. The bakery had changed the cake displays, but Ingo and his wife, Andrea still manned the desk. Same with Hig, who was chopping away in his shop. I tried to not linger too much on the specks of blood on his apron. I didn't want a repeat of the arena.

The nightmares were enough.

I shuddered. I walked on, squaring my shoulders. I was interested to see how my town went about without me, not like I had much of a difference anyway, seeming that I was a forbidden child and wasn't supposed to exist.

But everything was the same, and it saddened me. Death caused people pain, but they still live on, and death wouldn't do anything to stop them. Dad was right. How could my death benefit them?

The only thing that was different… were the abandoned houses. My small house was quiet. When I had entered it in the dead of night, looking inside the loose floorboard like I had in my dream months ago, I could tell that Thomas had avoided it. Dust covered every surface.

_His_ house stood still, and was empty. Just staring at it made me feel empty as well.

Another silent house was my brother's. He and Sarah had moved into _his_ house in the Victory Village along with Julia. Peyton lived in the Village too, as well as Zavier. Noah was in district eleven's Victor's Village.

It occurred to me, as I clutched my silver key and remembering the moment my father had given it, that I had never visited his grave. I knew that Teah would be waiting to give me hell for my betrayal, so I decided to make most of my time and do whatever I felt like doing.

I headed over to the Meadow where my father was buried, ignoring the stares of my people. I walked as casually as I could, but I knew they were questioning my unrecognisable face and heavy pack.

The grass of the Meadow was soft under my boots, and flowers already grew on my father's grave. Next to them, was turned earth, with only small shoots of grass. A couple of months old. With a jolt, I realised that it was _my_ grave.

Beside that, there were more graves. I knew whose they were. I didn't need to read the cursive letters on the stones. But I couldn't help it.

Tammin Windsor, Kinley Jicks, Hilton Bayner, Vena Kayell, Gill Toporthy.

My feet took me toward the graves, and I fell onto my knees. Along with the flowers that grew naturally, there were four red roses. On my grave, and on my father's. They didn't have much of a wilt to them, so I knew that they were recent, and two people had placed them. I could also tell that people came by often, as the seven graves were missing weeds or signs of neglect.

"Hi, Dad," I whispered. "Hey guys."

It was so silent. So eerie. But peacefully so.

"I'm still alive. Which is a miracle…" I closed my eyes and sat down comfortably, crossing my legs. "Who am I, Dad? I was hoping that the arena wouldn't change me, but I'm afraid that it did. Now, I'll never know for sure. I even look different."

It was all slipping out, everything that I'd kept inside.

"I wish you could've just told me who my ancestors were. What did you want me to have? I'm so confused. Where do I go from here? Should I go show Teah the key?

"I wonder how Conner and Cassie are. As well as Mum. Thomas and Sarah are fine, probably, they live in the Victor's Village, now. Are they the ones who've been putting the flowers?"

I absent-mindedly picked up several flowers from around me and began to braid the stems together.

"Everyone's staring, Dad. They don't know me. I wish I looked like myself. Not like this. I look like Katniss, Dad, Katniss Everdeen. I know that it's for my safety, but when the time comes for me to reveal to my friends that it really is me, will they believe me?"

I placed the wreath of flowers on top of his grave. Then I turned towards the graves of my friends.

"I'm so sorry." I placed a gentle hand on the bed of grass of Vena's grave. "I wish I could've done more to save you all. I'll take care of Peyton, Zavier, Noah and N-Nyal," I promised.

"I'll make sure that you will all be remembered. Along with the other tributes. I'll never forget the things you did for me. I hope that you are all happy, wherever you are."

Once again, I looked back to my father's tombstone, knowing that another goodbye was near.

"I need your help, Dad. I need your help. I wish you were here. I love you so much. I wish you were still alive to tell me what to do. To tell me 'old man's wise words'."

A smile split my face.

"I have to go, Dad. I'll see you soon. I promise." I planned to make one last stop at Hig's house to drop off a groosling- anonymously, of course.

I stood up, brushing the dirt off my pants. I shouldered my pack and turned around, setting off to the woods. Teah was probably thinking of keeping me under lock and key for a month or two, but I was thinking of escaping that.

I'd been caged in too long already.

Please R&R. Holiday time again, so I'll be able to update more. :)


	3. Chapter 3

_It was like I was a jigsaw puzzle, but someone had decided to hide the pieces._

**Chapter Three- Nyal POV**

My fingers shook as my hand held the door. Crap. What was I doing in here, again? Who cared if her window was open? It didn't mean anything. Back out the door, Nyal, get back out.

I ignored myself – I've doing that a lot, lately – and took a step inside.

The first that I noticed were the footsteps. The dust had thickened so that they were extremely noticeable, and I felt a bit guilty at the way I'd left this place alone, unattended to.

There was a massive spot by the bed where the steps were messed up, but that was it. Her window let in the cooling breeze, and, inside this house, it felt like a hurricane battering me to pieces.

I darted out the door, wiping my hand on my clothes to get rid of the dust that clung to my hands.

I didn't stop running. I continued on my way to the Victor's Village. Today, I just couldn't seem to decide where I wanted to be.

I ran past the pastel blue, double-storey house that belonged to Georin Leigh, the town Mayor. He was seated on the wrap-around porch, keeping an eye on the town. He didn't really like Manley, and he always used his power to help the town get out of tight spots. Sometimes he'd go around and start giving out food that his wife, Margaret made. When I was poor, those giveaways saved our lives. Julia and Lilly were always hungry then. Georin's daughter, Lilac was sitting on the porch too, next to a dozing dog.

"Nyal!"

Geez. Couldn't they see that I wanted to be alone?

"Nyal!"

"What?" I asked, my voice sharper than it should be. Ingo stopped short, obviously put off by the tone of my voice. His face was slightly pink, and he was breathing hard.

"Tell Peyton 'thank you' from Hig, okay?" Then he turned to walk off quickly.

"Wait, why?" Wasn't Peyton still back at the Village? Had I been gone that long?

He paused. "She dropped off a groosling at Hig's. Didn't she go hunting in the morning?"

She did? I wouldn't have known. Must have been really early on, but I wouldn't know why she'd still have to hunt. After all, she was rich now. Everyone was.

"I don't know. I'll tell her. Thanks."

I walked back to the Victor's Village, trying to keep my mind on the rocks in my path.

"Nyal! You're back."

Great. This day just kept on getting better and better. I was really starting to hate every little thing about Jane, now. Even the way she walked. And breathed. And blinked. Every. Little. Thing.

I looked up at her, muttered "I think I forgot something," and walked back the way I'd come.

I caught a flash of her pouting before I walked off.

"Come on," she said, following me. She was like some tame, rabid dog. She always stayed near me, but I didn't want her around. She took my elbow and tried to hook her arm around mine, but I jerked it away, quickening my pace.

"Ow- shoot- you're strong," she complained, as my sudden movement almost had her planting her face in the dirt. Almost.

The speed of my walking was almost on the verge of a jog.

"And… you're… fast!" she said breathlessly. Her voice sounded a bit more like she admired how fast I was.

Not fast enough, apparently.

I whirled around abruptly to confront her, but she slammed into me. She squealed on contact, and her arms locked together behind my back.

Shit.

"No- Jane- Get off me." I wrenched her arms and pushed her away roughly. Why did she have to test my patience like this?

"Why?" She looked like she was about to cry.

Oh, for the love of-

"Because I don't like you, okay? I don't like you in _any_ way. Not even as a friend." That last part was probably harsh, but I couldn't have her sticking around because she'd deluded herself into thinking that I liked her as a friend. I just couldn't have her around anywhere.

"_Why?_" she repeated, tears spilling down her face.

Well, somebody shoot me. Or her. Shoot her.

"Because-" I hesitated, my mouth open and unable to form her name. "L…"

"Oh right," she said, eyes narrowed, "you still like Lanie, don't you?"

I don't think I managed to hide the pain that flashed across my face when I heard her name.

"God, why don't you get over her?" she cried, stomping her foot on the ground.

"Why don't _you_ get over _me_?"

I twisted her question into reverse and threw it back to her. Loss of patience left no space to be gentle. She looked like I'd shoved metal toothpicks in between her toes and toenails. She started to pull at the roots of her hair. I thought only kids like Julia's age had tantrums like this.

Okay… now would be a good time to back away… very slowly.

"Because you aren't dead like she is!" she screamed suddenly. "Okay, Nyal? She's dead!"

The world tilted at a weird angle, and I found myself feeling like I couldn't breathe. It was like that day all over again, when I'd woken up… and found out that she hadn't.

I stumbled off like a tortured animal, trying to keep out the memories of me.

I don't know how I made it to the house in this state. I vaguely noticed my mother, Julia, Peyton and Sarah looking at me in alarm before I staggered to my bedroom, trance-like.

I collapsed on the sheets of my bed and shut the world out.

* * *

Whichever side I was on, awake or sleeping, there were still the nightmares. But at least when I was sleeping, I could wake up.

But I couldn't see how that could be any better.

There were bandages on my hands, so I figured that I hadn't made it to the house _that_ unscathed. There were some - I felt them when I stretched - on my knees as well.

The pillow was wet, and I was under the sheets. Mother had probably come up here to tuck me in while Sarah helped with the cuts. I was only in my shorts.

The shrill ring of the telephone almost scared me to death. A sick part of me wish it had.

Sighing, I picked up the phone, dreading who it might be, and in some cases, cursing them.

"Nyal."

It was Noah. "Hi."

"How have you been?"

What a stupid question. Anyone would know the answer.

"How have _you_ been?" Repeating questions have helped me avoid them.

I heard him sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm fine. Peyton called."

No wonder why. "Whatever she said, it's not true. I'm doing great, really."

"Oh. So how's Jane? Is she doing great, too?"

I groaned silently. Curse Peyton. "I don't want to ask. I don't want to go anywhere near her." My grip tightened around the phone. "You should've heard what she said."

"What did she say?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself. "I asked her why she wouldn't get over me. And she told me… that it was because I wasn't dead like La-_she_ was."

It was quiet for a second. Then, I could tell by the way he said the words, that he was hoping that he wouldn't set me off. "Why _don't_ you get over her?"

"I-I can't. The whole time in the arena, I was thinking about three possibilities. I would die and she would make it out, we'd both die, or we'd both make it out. I didn't think about that last possibility." My voice broke on that last word.

"Well, I think it's time you start thinking about new possibilities. Opportunities. Maybe you should start working on being happy again. Maybe start smiling."

"Maybe." I noticed that it was abnormally quiet downstairs. "Bye," I said.

I hung up, put on some clothes and headed down the stairs. Julia was seated on the last step, head turned toward the kitchen.

"Julia, what's up?" I asked.

"Mum's crying," she whispered. Her cheeks were damp, her eyes were wide.

I knelt down beside her and wiped her cheeks. "Stop crying, okay? It'll be fine."

_It'll be fine._ Probably the most used lie in the whole of the world.

I walked into the kitchen. Gleaming tiles covered the floor. It was so spacious. Bigger than my house. The stove was on, and there was something bubbling over the flame. There was the sound of rushing water. She was at the sink, her back to me. The window in front of her showed the green of the forest, but also her reflection.

Everyone was crying today.

"Mum?"

As I stepped toward her, I noticed the telephone dangling by the cord off the bench.

"You were listening."

She raised a hand to wipe her face, but of course, it didn't help. Her hand was already wet from washing the dishes.

I walked over to help her.

"I-I never realised how much you were suffering," she sobbed.

I didn't think she could see properly. Her eyes were puffy. The brown irises were blurred with tears.

"Funny thing is," I said, trying to lighten up the mood, "I thought I was suffering before I went into the arena."

She sobbed harder. Okay Nyal, work on your humour.

"Mum, don't cry," I said as soothingly as I could. "Please don't. You're making Julia cry."

"I'll stop crying when I see you smile."

I was taller than her, so I took her by the shoulders and spun her towards me. Here was the face of my mother, richer beyond all of district twelve, but suffering. Her face reminded me of when my father had died. Nobody but me could make her happy.

"It's like you're dead, Nyal. I've never seen you like this. I wish I could do something to make you happier."

"No, Mum, don't give me that crap. I am happy. As long as you are. So stop crying. I'm- I'm…"

I didn't why I couldn't just say it this time. Maybe it was because I've said it so many times before. Maybe I couldn't just bear to lie to my mother when she was like this.

"Seriously, I'm f-"

Someone rang the doorbell. Saved by the bell, literally. Julia sprang from the stairs and bounded toward the door. She unlocked it in earnest. Normally, she'd wait for me or my mother to open it, because she was too short to look through the eye-hole and see who it was, but it was noon. Noon meant Thomas and Daniel, my older brother, were coming home from the mines for lunch.

"Dad!" she said as Thomas stepped through the door. "Daniel!"

Mum managed a weak smile at this. Dad had died when Julia young, so she didn't remember him much. She loved a reason to have a father figure. I also pitied my youngest sister Lilly, who was almost a year old, and had been born after Dad died.

Daniel and Thomas took off their shoes, socks, coats and shook them off outside to get rid of any coal. Daniel looked like me, but with black hair. He was stockier than I was, and we were about the same height. He was much more serious and mature. Was. Until the arena, I had been the clown of the family.

"Hey kiddo," Thomas said, as Julia tugged on his arm to lead him into the lounge room. Luckily Thomas didn't look anything like _her_. Or else I couldn't bear to live with him.

Daniel brushed off his shorts. A habit of any coal miner.

"What's for lunch?" he asked.

He doesn't have much patience for me nowadays, especially now when I've got everyone so worried about me. And because I'm moping all the time.

I remembered the times when we'd play-fight in our tiny place of a home. But who cared about the lack of space? We were happy. And wasn't that what we needed now? To be happy?

Mum answered from the stove. She was stirring the pot, spreading the aroma of stew.

"Beef stew."

His eyes brightened a bit. "Dad's favourite?"

Being the eldest, he remembered Dad the most. Along with me.

He sat down in one of the dining chairs, calling Thomas and Julia for lunch. I robotically set up the table, blankly placing spoons and plates on the tablecloth. Daniel raised an eyebrow as he noticed the bandages on my hands.

"We stopped by the graves on the way," Thomas stated as he lowered himself onto the cushioned chairs. I simply stood by. I wasn't hungry.

I knew which graves he was talking about. The first time he'd said her name before the word 'grave', I'd thrown a fit. Demolished half the house, apparently. I don't remember much of it. Alcohol had become a close friend shortly after I arrived back here.

My mother cast me a quick glance out of the corner of her eye. Probably to see if I was going to start chucking stuff again.

"There was a new bunch of flowers. Did you place them there, Nyal?" Thomas continued.

I shifted uneasily. "No." I definitely remember not going there. Flashbacks were common with every trip to her resting place.

"A wreath of flowers. Perfectly braided together." Thomas shovelled a spoonful of beef into his mouth.

I slipped out of the kitchen to spare myself the heartache. The lounge room was on the other side of the house, opposite the kitchen. I walked past the staircase.

I grimaced to show my distaste of the wealth that filled my house. Velvet cushions, really? I sank into the sofa, scooping up the remote into my hands as I went.

The TV was switched on at a press of a button. There was hardly any static, and the colours were as bright as my vision.

Capitol news was on.

"_The hunt for forbidden children is now becoming more thorough as the need to fill this year's arena grows. So far, only 18 children have been found, compared to last year's 32 in the same six month period. Peacekeepers are searching any random houses at random times to catch out the children in hiding. But Head Gamekeeper Zelix Freehold says that there is not too much pressure about trying to find more tributes._"

At the name, my head snapped up to the TV. Zelix is there, at the news studio. His bald head and mono-brow dominating half the TV screen. My hands started to tremble.

"We've got about until five months after the Victory Tours, and that's when we'll start to put more pressure. But for now, there's plenty of time to enjoy last year's Victors tour Panem," he said, speaking through his teeth. There's a stupid smile plastered on his face that doesn't meet his eyes.

The camera focused back to Gemini Winter, and I turned the TV off. I almost threw the remote onto the glass table before heading up the stairs. There were the sounds of dishes being stacked together and being placed in the sink.

"…don't want him to be like this anymore," my mother was saying sombrely.

I stopped in my tracks and took a couple of steps backward.

"Maybe he just needs time," Thomas said.

"How much more time?" Daniel countered. "It's been too long already. He's lost inside himself."

"Jane told me that he'll never get over her," Thomas said.

"It's not just that," my mother said. "At nights too. Have you noticed?"

"The nightmares. Who hasn't noticed? He wakes us all up, even Lilly."

It suddenly struck me, now, about how selfish I was. Lilly, the youngest, and who could barely speak, was also being affected by my thoughtless actions.

There was a pause in the conversation.

"Have any of you been at the graves, lately?" Thomas asked.

"No," my mother replied. "But Nyal went out in the morning, I don't know where he went."

"I don't think he laid the flowers," Daniel said. "Everyone can see the toll it takes on him just to see her grave, much less put flowers on them."

"He came back with scratched hands. I had Sarah patch them up. As soon as he came back, he disappeared into his room." My mother sighed.

"Of course he didn't lay the flowers," Thomas said. "I don't think he knows how to braid the way the wreath was."

"Maybe someone stopped by," my mother suggested.

"Yes, but who? Ingo said that he'd seen someone stay at the grave for about a quarter of an hour. A girl, apparently."

"What'd she look like?" my mother inquired.

"Black hair. That's about it. Young, about fifteen, sixteen? Could be older, kids around here are short for their age."

"But that's the thing. The Meadow is right next to the Seam. Almost everyone here has black hair," Daniel noted.

There was a moment where the dishes were placed in the sink, by the sound, and the noise of the tap opening.

"Did you buy the beef at Hig's place?" Thomas asked.

Mum placed a dish on the counter. "Where else?"

"Did you see his display? Fresh groosling. Couldn't have been hunted earlier than yesterday."

"Groosling?" Daniel cut in. "If Hig isn't careful, he'll have Manley breathing down his neck. Manley will think that Hig's been hunting."

"But Hig doesn't hunt- and that's my point. Where could he get groosling from? And it was extremely obvious that the animal was killed on a hunt. Wounds looked like they were from arrows. Straight through the right eye." Thomas's voice sounded a bit more harsh towards the end.

My heart felt like it had been taken to by sandpaper. Arrow wounds?

"That's unbelievable. No one has aim that perfect."

"Yes, someone does," Thomas whispered.

I didn't realise that I was gripped the staircase rail with shaking hands.

"No…" my mother murmured. I could imagine her shaking her head when she said this. "It couldn't be. And don't go around spreading false hope, Thomas. I know that you've been hit hard by Lanie's death, but think about what this would do if word of this reaches Nyal. He'll hang on. Then he'll be hurt more when he realises…" she trailed off.

"I still just can't believe she's gone."

There was a lull, where I felt my breathing rasp through my suddenly narrow throat. Then I ran up the stairs, almost ramming into Sarah, who was carrying Lilly.

"Nyal! What-"

I sprinted around her and flew into my room, burying myself beneath the covers and pillows.

The rest of the day was spent in darkness.

Most of these chapters are going to be fairly long, so bear with me! Please review, and mention if anything doesn't seem to make sense, I tend to do that when I write, and that's why I'm taking ages to update. I've been planninig how this story goes and been reading chapters over and over again to make sure things make sense.

Wow. Even this note is a story in itself.

Nyal is suffering, isn't he? Well, I've written up to ten chapters, so I know how things will turn out. Stay tuned for a really nasty twist!

Just keep being awesome readers, guys. :)

Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Note/Disclaimer:

The lullaby is Suzanne Collins', not mine. I do not own it.

_If I could describe district thirteen in one word, it would be 'boring'._

**Chapter Four- Lanie POV**

Teah's hand slammed down onto the wood. Around the table, the people seated jumped as the sound cracked through the room. I merely blinked.

"You have no idea how worried we were about you," Teah said.

To be honest, I did have an idea. Especially when I spent about a month and a half in the arena worrying my guts out. I was fiddling with my badge- the Forbidden Society badge. The crest was of a Mockingjay holding an arrow in its beak. Born from the times of the Rebellion.

I turned the silver badge over in my fingers.

"We'd thought that something had happened."

I decided to just get this over with. "I'm sorry. Next time, I'll always wear the ear-piece. Okay?"

Teah shook her head. "That's not enough… to make sure, there will be no _next time_."

I locked eyes with her as I understood. No trip to district twelve? That would be the death of me. I stood up so fast that I knocked my chair backwards.

"No! You can't do that! You can't stop me!" I shouted. "You can't!"

In his seat, Oliver spoke up. "Teah, maybe you should think about this."

"What's there to think about?" Obadiah Ring, the President of district thirteen and leader of the Society cut in. "We all agreed to let her hunt as long as she sticks to the conditions we gave her. But she didn't. We have to do this. She won't learn otherwise. Reckless behaviour doesn't lead to anything good. And especially as she's a member of the Forbidden Society, there's more risk to think about."

They were now talking as if I wasn't here. That gave me enough information to know that whatever I was going to say, wasn't going to be heard.

I grabbed my bow and quiver from beneath the table and swung them over my shoulder.

"See you all later," I muttered, kicking my fallen chair away from my exit path.

As usual, the blandness of district twelve provoked a wave of distaste inside me. Everything was dull here, monotonous. Routine. At least in district twelve, routine schedule wasn't as boring. There was always the thrill of a hunt to look forward to. But now? I'd ruined that for myself.

I slammed by fist into the button to open the elevator. I stepped inside. The speed of the elevator was extremely slow for me, so I fumed silently as I waited for the elevator to reach the fourth floor down.

District thirteen had God-knows-how-many floors. The topmost one, the one with the meeting room, was fifty metres underground. The first floor also had the schooling room. For the teenagers who needed to learn. There weren't many around here. In fact, there were more hired workers than actual residents.

The second floor had the Training Room, kitchens and cafeteria. The third floor was closed to almost everyone who had no reason. It had the laboratory (aka the Invention Room), the Tech Room and the Weapons Room. The fourth floor was the hospital. The rest of the floors were quarters. There were a dozen floors, at the least. And the last dozen of floors were the ones that I'd never had reason to venture to. Not because we weren't allowed, it was because there was nothing to see. Disaster situation floors, I called them.

A couple of floors had underground gardens. I didn't know how that worked, but they did.

Half the bedroom floors housed residents. The other half housed the scientists, Peacekeepers, nurses, teachers, cooks, cleaners, trainers and the other people like that. Like I'd said, more hired workers than residents.

Even so, most of the residents were teenagers, Forbidden Children sent here by their parents who live in other districts. Some of them were missing their younger brother or sister.

I found my room, unlocked it by using the badge (it had multiple uses) and went inside. Teah didn't have to be so controlling, did she? I'd already lost my innocence, now my appearance, did I have to lose my home, too? Wasn't losing my friends enough already? How much more did they have to take?

I kicked my bed, throwing my arrows and bow onto the floor. "Go ahead, just take it all!" I yelled at the ceiling. "Take everything, huh? Just don't leave anything for me." I chucked the badge into the wall in a small fit of childish rage.

There was nothing left. But someone was still working to make sure that I'd never get anything back.

The door opened. Still in arena mode, I snatched the bow and nocked an arrow from the floor. I shot up to aim it to the intruder's head. Right between the eyes.

Oliver raised his hands in surrender.

"Whoa there, Lanie. It's just me," he said. He stepped inside and closed the door.

I lowered my bow. "What happened?"

"I managed to persuade Teah to let you out."

I relaxed my shoulders.

"But you have to have someone with you."

"What?" I asked. "Who?"

"Anyone you choose. She prefers a Peacekeeper, but anyone else would do."

"Peacekeeper?" I snorted. My reputation with Peacekeepers was probably weaker than the light of a candle in front of a hurricane. "Let me guess, I'll be handcuffed to them the whole time?"

Oliver shrugged. Oliver was 21. The same age as Thomas. His fiancée, Tanya, was only 19, but he still reminded me of my older brother. He only looked different. Not so stocky. Black hair. Blue eyes.

"You should be getting to the cafeteria. They've cooked your groosling." He swung his arm around my shoulders, really casually, like a brother. A small pang reminded me of how much I actually missed Thomas. I sighed.

"Everyone's there?"

He smiled. "They're all waiting for you."

I've developed a friendship with the teenagers of district thirteen. Rather, they developed the friendship with me. With one exception. And that was Violet Ring. Obadiah's daughter.

We headed up to the second floor. It wasn't so crowded, because it was quite early for lunch, but one dull white table was full except for two seats. My new friends smiled warmly up at me over trays of steaming food.

"I'll leave you here, Lanie," Oliver said. He walked off, glancing back once as if to make sure that I was going to eat.

I slid down into my chair. My friends were all slurping in spoonfuls of soup. There were pieces of groosling, I could see. At least everyone seemed to benefit from my adrenaline thrill. I studied my friend closely, to see if any of them would be suitable hunting partners.

Matthew was seated across me. His younger sister, Claire, was next to him. Their parents lived in district two. He was the same age as Nyal was going to be this year, 17. His sister was two years younger, so a year younger than me. He and his sister would have fit in district twelve just fine. Both had black hair and grey eyes. He was athletic, and liked to join me on my sessions in the training room. Claire was a fast runner. Matthew was extremely skilled with snares. Gifted, possibly.

Ruby was sitting beside me on my left. She was 14. Her parents lived in district four, along with her three year old brother, Riley. She had sea green eyes and light brown, wavy hair. She had slightly tanned skin that would have been a little darker if she hadn't lived in sunless thirteen for ten years of her life. In my opinion, she was too young to accompany me. But she would be a good fisher. She was a natural with a trident and net. A strong swimmer too, given her district.

Abigail was on my right. Unlike most of the teenagers, she was an orphan. She lived here with her cousin, Tanya. The same Tanya who was engaged to Oliver. She was 15. Her aunt, Tanya's mother, lived with Tanya's younger brother, Jericho, in district seven. She was strong. Like Andi and Antha, my allies from district seven, she was good with an axe.

Christian Ring was Violet's identical twin. 16 years old. He was sitting next to Matthew. I tolerated him more because he had more brain cells than his twin sister did. So maybe they weren't that identical. He was more open-minded about situations, and did not take things like power for granted, unlike his spoilt-brat sister.

The largest family of Forbidden Children in district thirteen took up the rest of the table. Aden, Josie and Silvie. Rica's son and daughters. None of them were suitable to be hunting partners. Josie was 10 and Silvie was 7. Aden, who was 13, was extremely intelligent and hardly seen outside the lab. He could identify weapons and all other things, know how to make them, but I couldn't imagine him taking down even a fish, much less a squirrel. He reminded me of Eal in many ways.

The three of them lived here with their father, Corbin, who, like Aden, seemed to live in the district's lab. Each of the children had a jewel on a necklace. A sapphire, a ruby and an emerald. The same gems that were embedded in Rica's hand.

The good thing was that everyone had connections to other districts. Obadiah Ring was from district six along with his wife, Haylette. Every hired worker were from different districts. District thirteen was a district made from other ones.

"Lanie, why aren't you eating?" Matthew asked from opposite me.

"Huh? I…" I noticed the tray of food in front of me. I picked up the spoon and took a sip of soup to avoid conversation.

"So," Abigail said, slurping the last drops from her bowl and settling back into her chair. She reminded me of Peyton the most. She reminded me of Zavier too, with her gift of speaking. "Who are you choosing as hunting partner?"

I shrugged. "Who's willing to go?"

It was the wrong question to ask. They burst into words of excitement. It only occurred to me that they were dying to get out of bland, old, dull, thirteen.

"Wait," I said. "I can't take all of you."

"We could alternate," Christian suggested. "I want to know what's out there."

"You're not the only one," Ruby cut in.

"Will your father let you?" I asked Christian.

He opened his mouth to answer.

"Dad will never let him anywhere with you," a voice said from behind me.

I gripped my bowl as I recognised the voice and tried not to dump the food on Violet. I may hunt and add extra food to cook, but no extra rations were allowed.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her through my teeth, turning around to glare at her.

She was the only one who flaunted her money and power. She was in a knee-length purple dress with silver trim. She was wearing Capitol-style make-up. Silver eye shadow. And other colours that clashed together horribly.

"None of your business," she replied, her voice dripping with disdain. She turned to Christian. "How many times have I told you not to eat with animals, Christian? Honestly, if they didn't know already, nobody would know that you were related to me." She sighed and held her hand up to her face, studying the crimson nails.

"Good. Being your blood relative is embarrassing enough already," Christian replied curtly. He tore off a piece from his small loaf of bread and popped it in his mouth. He was staring at his food.

Violet exhaled sharply through her nose. "Dad wants to talk to you." She spun around on her mile-high heels and left.

Christian stood up slowly, cursing under his breath. I caught the words, "out of all the siblings in the world" and a suggestion as to where she could shove her make-up.

He walked off after dumping his tray noisily at the depositing station.

Matthew let out a low whistle. "Luckily I'm not related her," he said, playfully nudging Claire with his elbow. She rolled her eyes. He winked at me.

"So who _are_ you going to hunt with?" she asked before tipping the remains of the bowl into her mouth.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll sleep on it. Tell you guys tomorrow. I'm heading to the Training C- Room." Training Centre? I felt like I was still living in the Capitol.

Wake up, Lanie.

I found the Training Room. It wasn't as sophisticated as the Training Centre, but it was good enough.

There was a trainer on the mat for hand-to-hand combat. I'd been training for that one a lot, lately. He nodded toward me when I walked into the room, but I walked toward the stamina range.

The treadmill was the same colour as the walls and ceiling, except for the black belt. I pressed the right buttons and the treadmill started to move. My footsteps drowned out the sound of its humming. A couple of minutes in, I upped the ante. I hadn't even broken a sweat.

But soon enough, the roots of my hair were damp with perspiration. I'd been going for almost an hour, jogging at normal speed. My breathing was just on the edge of becoming ragged and uneven, but I trained effort on breathing smoothly.

Twenty minutes later, my limbs were burning, but it was a nice burn. I was at the point of being so exhausted that I only had enough strength to keep going, and if I stopped, I would collapse.

Finally, I slammed my hand on it to turn it down, slowing to a brisk walk. I took the water bottle from its holder and took one deep gulp of reinvigorating liquid. I wiped the sweat from my eyes. For five minutes, I kept at the same speed, before stopping entirely.

Usually my workouts lasted about two to three hours long. At first, without being so used to regular and brutal exercises, I had woken up feeling like an overused rubber band. But now, I woke up with barely an ache.

I retired to the archery range.

There were five dummies. Each of them were white except for red and blue lines that webbed all over them. The lines symbolised the veins and arteries. Even though I could shoot through the eyes, between the eyes, and through the heart, it was good practice to know where the major vessels were, locate them and run them through with an arrow. If my arrow was shot all the way through an artery, it could prove fatal to an enemy, if I ever had a reason to target the arteries instead of just the usual eye target.

My eyes zeroed in on a major point on the inside of the arm, opposite the elbow. I took aim along with a deep breath, and let go. With a thwunk, the arrow tip buried itself right where I'd aimed.

I took a couple of steps to a small waist-high table. It was actually a control panel for the room. I scrolled through the archery section, and tapped the button that said, 'move dummies'.

Immediately, the dummies sprang to life.

Smiling slightly, I also pressed the button that said, 'dummies on attack'. With the thrill came the thumping of my heart, and I dove behind a weapons shelf as the dummies sent tiny darts from their palms in my direction.

The darts clanged on the shelf. I poised myself onto the balls of my feet, and leapt from my hiding place. I rolled on the floor and came up on one knee, arrow aimed on one of the dummies' arteries in the left arm. Twang. It collapsed but continued to shoot darts.

I rolled out of the way whilst nocking an arrow and several darts buried themselves into the ground where I'd been. Hiding behind a tower of stacked mats, I peeked around the corner, pulling back the string as I went. I shot with extreme precision.

The dummies were nearing my safe place, and to surprise them, I took a couple of steps back. Then I ran forward, jammed my toe in between two of the mats, kicked hard and flew above them. I saw the robotic dummies look up slowly to follow my flight. Clang. Clang.

I landed on my feet right in front of the last dummy. I quickly ducked under a series of darts, side-stepped around the robot and disabled it by plunging an arrow into its neck. Then I straightened up and calmly proceeded to take back my arrows.

"I see that you haven't lost your skill, yet."

I turned back to see Teah standing by the door. The trainer was gone. A private conversation, then.

"Well, personalities can't be changed by operations, can't they?" I walked over to a dummy frozen with a dart halfway out of its palm.

"You know why I had to do it."

I took a deep breath. "Why didn't you just leave me to die?"

"I couldn't. If Zelix knew you were still alive, he'd make sure you wouldn't live a day after the Victory Tours."

"Don't say that name." I walked over in front of the targets, nocking an arrow.

"Everyone has plans for revenge, Lanie. Even you do."

"And?"

"Nyal, Peyton, Zavier and Noah are still alive. You know that Zelix is planning for payback. You had given district twelve hope, and even though you are dead, the winning tributes represent hope with the outer regions of being able to thwart the Capitol. He can't have that."

"He isn't the President." Thud.

"But how much power does Tobias have over him? He can easily be over-ruled. Zelix's main concern is that Nyal and the others will form a group against Zelix and have Tobias be part of it."

Thud. Thud. Thud. "Aren't we in a group just like that already?"

"Yes, but the difference is, no one suspects us. Least of all, you. I just wanted to warn you, the others will be in danger. Zelix wants to eliminate anything that threatens his power, and Nyal, Peyton, Zavier and Noah are just those obstacles."

It was silent except for the thudding of my arrows, and my heart.

"Nyal… will be in danger?"

"Most certainly. Especially on Victory Tours, with them far away from home. There are also a lot of excuses for 'accidental deaths'. Train crash… poisoned food…" She stopped once she noticed the expression on my face. "We've called our other members. We've told them to send our Peacekeepers on the train during the Tours."

"That's not enough," I said, aggravated. Why was Nyal's life still in danger? Wasn't I the threat?

Teah saw the determination in my eyes. "No, Lanie. You have to stay right here."

"What made you think I was going?" I asked, but I couldn't relaxed the crease between my eyes.

"Lanie, I know you. Promise you won't leave. We've got this under control."

"I'll promise as long as _you_ promise that I can hunt tomorrow morning."

"Who are you hunting with?"

"One of the teens."

"Lanie, that'll hardly help. At least take Oliver or-"

"One. Of. The. Teens," I said harshly.

"Fine. You can go." Teah gave up. She knew me well.

"I promise I won't leave," I said. I won't leave. Not now, anyway. I took back my arrows, wrenching them from the target, shoved them in my quiver and left the room.

My room was bland and tasteless. There were no signs that someone lived there. No photos, no colour. Signs of human life- zero. Even the memories were scarce. Routine life was unexciting. The only types of variation were the food, the catches from my hunting, and my workout.

I placed my things on the floor and walked into the bathroom, ready for a long shower. The water was warm. It wasn't as complicated and extravagant as the Capitol showers. The soap and shampoo cleaned the hair and wasn't so fragrant and strong. The towels weren't as thoroughly laundered and fluffy. But it was fine.

I changed into generic white clothes and jogged to the elevator, wanting to beat the long dinner queue.

Beef stew steamed in my bowl next to a slice of bread on a tray as I sat down at a table. The taste was pretty much like the walls. Plain-ish.

My hunger slightly sated, I walked back to my room, muscles tense, knowing what was to come next.

I lay in bed, eyes on the ceiling, but unable to see the dull, white colour. I could feel sleep tugging at the edge of my consciousness, but I refused to surrender. I knew what was awaiting me at the other end.

My mind wandered back to the days when I was free of sin and innocent. There was no worry then. Only that my father wouldn't sing me my lullaby. I closed my eyes despite my troubles and let the moment overtake the darkness of not seeing.

Once again, I was in my house. There was only one bed- my father's, and I shared it with him. Even then, he was sick, but only slightly so. My brother slept on the ground. He was only beginning to like Sarah at the time. He was on the thin quilt that served as a mattress, listening to my father sing. Every now and then, during my favourite lines, I would chime in.

I sat in my father's lap, head on his shoulder and cupping his silver key in my hands. My father's voice was all I heard. All I cared about. The words came back to me and I found myself singing them in the present time, along with my younger self.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away

A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray

Forget your woes and let your troubles lay

And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

As the last three words left my lips and my father's, a single tear escaped my closed eyes. Instead of being overwhelmed by sobs, I dissolved into the night, where my dreams weren't as sweet and tomorrow didn't bring them true.

Hi, guys!

Oh, my God, it finally feels like it's spring outside! (I live in Australia, so don't get confused with the seasons, if you're from another country.)

Ugh, nightmares... I hate them. The only good thing about them is that I can wake up from them.

Please review! I feel like I'm begging, which I'm not... it's just a suggestion, you don't have to do it. (Yes, yes you do.)

Just kidding.

Have a fun day. :D

I'm going to go soak up some sun!


	5. Chapter 5

_Inside me somewhere, someone was having fun sawing me apart into pieces._

**Chapter Five- Lanie POV**

I woke up, for what seemed like the millionth time, covered in cold sweat. It had been worse, this time. I was in the arena, once again, but this time, I was with Nyal, Peyton, Zavier and Noah. I had been looking up at the sky where Zelix's face laughed wickedly, and mutts with the faces of my twin siblings were unleashed upon us. I had been conflicted, frozen to the spot. It wasn't until Peyton leapt forward and slammed her dagger into Cassie's throat did I react.

I screamed myself awake.

I didn't stop to think. I rose up from my bed, took my quiver of arrows and my bow, and flew out the door. Down the corridor, I took the turn and stopped at the room with the familiar numbers. I knocked on the door. I didn't stop to think about my actions. I was selfish, yes, but I had to forget. I had to become a huntress again.

Matthew opened the door, eyes half-closed.

"Wh-what?" he asked, covering his mouth as he yawned.

"I need you to hunt with me. Bring your weapons. Meet me on the first floor."

His grey eyes widened. "L-Lanie? Do you know what time it is?"

"No."

"It's too early," he complained, a hint of a whine in his voice.

"I know…" I sighed. "But didn't you want to get out of district thirteen?"

He paused mid-yawn. "Meet you on the first floor," he said, so fast that the words were slurred together.

The door shut in my face.

I went into the elevator, pressed the right button, and stepped out onto the first floor as soon as the doors opened wide enough for me to go through. I almost slammed into Teah.

She was standing there, looking at me expectantly, arms crossed.

"Thought you weren't going to leave," was all she said.

"I need to hunt."

"Who are you hunting with?"

"Matthew." I tried to step past her, but she held out an arm.

"Time limit is an hour."

Because I was preoccupied with trying to get through, at first I didn't really hear what she had said. But when I did hear it, I found myself trying to push her instead of pushing past her.

"I can't get to district twelve and back in only an hour, much less hunt."

"You're not going to district twelve. You're staying in thirteen. You can hunt here." Her face was stony.

"I _can_ hunt here. But I don't want to."

The elevators opened behind me, and Matthew stepped out, a pack over one shoulder.

"It's fine, Teah. I'm going to go with her."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Matthew, but-"

"But what? I'll keep her under control, Teah, you don't have to worry so much."

The tone of his answer had me realise what a bad idea it was to wake him up halfway through the night because of a bad dream.

I knew that Teah had succumbed by the relaxing of her shoulders. "Five hours. No more."

Matthew nodded. I merely continued on into one of the rooms.

There were five rooms on the top floor that led to the hangar. The rooms were more like passageways. They reminded me of the dim corridor that had led me to the arena.

The hangar had fifteen hovercrafts. Hardly any were used. Even when they had taken me out of the arena in secret, only three had been active. The rest were simply on stand-by. 'Just-in-cases,' Teah had explained.

I boarded the craft that was nearest to the exit. The only exit in district thirteen. The massive doors opened, made of metal that were able to withstand Capitol bombs. They opened to a wide airstrip, dark but lit up with bright lights on either side of the airstrip to signify the planes path.

I leant back into my seat for takeoff, head on the rest but eyes opened. I didn't want to see what the dark had in store for me.

From beside me, Matthew asked, "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I just wanted to escape…"

"District thirteen?" He asked it like he knew that it wasn't the answer.

I shook my head. "The nightmares." I kept my eyes opened without blinking as I said the words, not wanting a replay.

I rested my head on his shoulder, seeking the comfort of a friend. When he turned his head and leant his cheek on the top of my head, and his hand took mine, I felt my lungs freeze. What did this mean? What did I mean to him?

The crafted landed about forty minutes later. I unbuckled the belt for the seat and stood up, nodding at the pilot in thanks.

"Five hours," he reminded.

The craft door opened to my home, and I instantly felt weightless. Green, green, green. It was all familiar.

I unthinkingly stepped out onto the leaf-covered forest floor, savouring the fresh and untinted air. Matthew followed close behind me, eagerly drinking in the land not of district thirteen.

"_This_ is district twelve?" he asked, incredulously. "It's so…"

"I know," I said, agreeing with whatever word he would have used to finished his admiring sentence.

"I don't blame you for throwing a tantrum when Teah banned you from here."

"Tried to ban me," I corrected him.

The moment we were safely away, the helicopter took off.

"By the way," Matthew said, his words slightly slow like he was afraid about the affect they would have on me, "the pilot gave me these." In his hand, he held out an earpiece.

I sighed. But if these were the extents that I had to do so I could come here, I'd do them.

I took the earpiece from Matthew's outstretched hand and inserted it into my ear.

"Teah?"

Her voice answered me immediately. "You've got four hours and fifty-five minutes left. Make the most of it."

Matthew and I strode off deeper into the woods to hunt.

* * *

Matthew spat out an apple seed into the lake. Shimmering ripples of water spread out from where the seed landed, destroying the reflection of the light-dotted forest canopy.

I watch him indulge himself with the fruits of the woods.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" he asked, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth which was stained with the juice of the extensive amount of berries he'd already eaten. Even before he started on the apples and oranges.

I would have gone off to check the snares he'd set up, but it had only been ten minutes. I didn't want to scare away any prey that were going in his traps' direction.

We already had three rabbits, five squirrels and four grooslings. I'd momentarily shocked him with my hunting skill, and he'd surprised me with his knowledge of tracks and where the animals nested. He seemed drawn to where they hid, but I refused to take the animals down that way. I wanted the thrill of the hunt, not attacking animals in places they were supposed to be safe. I never used to be this sensitive, I would have taken the free food if this were the times before the Games.

But after, killing animals were they slept reminded me of being trapped in the arena and being picked off one by one.

Nobody liked that.

"Are you done?" I asked, as he finished off another apple. I raised an eyebrow as his hand stretched out to take an orange from the pile we'd collected – I'd collected, while he ate almost as fast as I picked – and he caught my expression. He pulled his hand back and stood up from his sunny spot in the lake clearing.

"Yeah, I'm done. Can we pick more later?"

"Sure." If there's anything left on the trees.

We'd already spent three-and-a-bit-more of our precious hours hunting, setting up snares and picking out fresh greens and fruits. I wanted to spend the next two hours…

"Where are you heading next?" Teah asked in the earpiece.

"Maybe we'll go looking for some doe." Maybe. Not sure. But maybe.

Maybe…

I whirled around and clamped my hand around Matthew's mouth, so he couldn't say a word. His eyes widened, and while he was still frozen, I slammed him against a tree. Not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to restrain him. Still forcing him silent, I opened my mouth ever so slightly and leant in close to his ear so no one even just an inch away had a hope of hearing.

"Stay… quiet… don't say a word. I'm taking you to my town."

I pulled away and nodded toward him. I pressed a finger to my lips to remind him.

"Are we still going to hunt?" he asked, playing along.

"For doe. Or deer. Then on the way back, we'll go to check your snares. And then we'll pick more fruit."

"Where do you want to hunt the doe?"

"Well, you're the expert. Where do you think?" I seized him by the arm.

"This way," he said.

We didn't go in that direction, though. I led him toward the place I wanted to go.

He was quiet, and that was fine, because Teah thought we were on a hunt, and it would be more suspicious to be loud when we were supposedly tracking doe.

The only problem would be when I got to district twelve.

I shoved that thought aside as my eyes found the electric fence. I walked a couples minutes down to where I came to an empty part of town. A part of the Seam close to the mines where nobody wanted to live. There was no hum of electricity, so I went on ahead and climbed through the wires of the fence. Matthew hesitated.

"What?" I mouthed at him.

He beckoned me towards him. He took my earpiece out and closed his hand around it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" I said, agitated.

"If people recognise you, you'll put yourself in jeopardy."

It pulled me up short. The word he'd said. 'Yourself'. Not 'everything in jeopardy'. But me. Me in jeopardy.

"I'll deal with it."

"Obadiah will never let you out again."

"Why do you care so much? It's my life," I blurted out. Come on, Matthew. I'm here. I'm in my town. Please don't do this.

He paused when he tried to find an answer. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Squaring his shoulders, he followed me to the other side of the fence. He handed back the earpiece, and I answered by rolling my eyes.

It was the time of morning when people had already woken up and were readying for work, or starting to get the kids ready for school. The time of morning when the bakery started to bake the fresh bread that people would buy for breakfast, and the time when the Forbidden children returned home in secret from being at secret classes.

I kept walking until I reached the bakery. Ingo and his wife, Andrea, were there. Andrea was wrapping up a loaf of bread for a customer, and as I watched, Ingo disappeared around the back, probably to keep an eye on the baking bread.

When I walked inside, my nose picked up the smell of fresh loaves. The bell connected to the door tinkled as I went in and the customer went out. Andrea smiled invitingly from behind the counter. It was only when she didn't say anything did I remember that I was not Lanie anymore. She didn't recognise me.

"Hello," I said.

In the earpiece, I heard Teah hiss. "Lanie…"

"Hi. Would you like to buy anything?" Andrea gestured to the loaves in the basket next to her. I could feel the warmth radiating from them. On the window display, fantastically decorated cakes sat with beautiful colours. Lighting up an otherwise dull town.

"Just a loaf," I said. I might as well.

"Lanie!" Teah was close to yelling. "Get out of there! Right. Now!"

"What kind?" Andrea asked.

I pointed to one of the loaves in the basket.

Matthew raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged as Andrea wrapped the bread. Teah was still fuming loudly in one ear. I ignored her. I placed three coins on the counter, took the loaf and turned to head out.

"Wait," Andrea called.

"Yes?"

"You've overpaid." She held out the two coins that she didn't want. But needed.

"Keep the change." I smiled. Teah groaned in the earpiece.

"You're not from here, are you?" I supposed that she'd been wondering this for a while, and her curiosity only got the better of her now. Teah was suddenly silent, as if alert.

"From district four." My eyes were too noticeable to say I was from around here.

Out of the corner of my eye, Ingo peeked around the door to the back. I kept my eyes on Andrea.

"Oh, well, good day to you. Thanks for the… extra change."

I smiled again and opened the door.

"Lanie?" someone asked. In my ear, there was the sound of something smashing into pieces.

Luckily I had already pushed the door as far as I could, or else I would have frozen mid-swing. I continued on my way out, like I didn't hear a thing.

It would have worked, if it weren't for Matthew.

He stiffened and glared at Ingo. Then I took him by the arm and dragged him outside. Out of sight, I started on him.

"Don't!" I hissed.

"He knew you."

"He _thought_ he knew me. But you had to make it extremely obvious, didn't you? Of course, now he'll be more suspicious."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Sorry?" I couldn't anymore. I gnashed my teeth together. Then I walked off. Matthew followed, but I ignored him. I could feel his regret for his mistake, and I decided to forget about the incident before I felt bad for telling him off like that.

"Hey, kid!" someone yelled.

I paused.

Ingo ran over. Flour covered his arms and the front of his chef's apron. In my mind, I cursed Matthew, and began to plan my way of escape. This visit to district twelve could have been fine, if Matthew hadn't ruined it.

"I'm so sorry about what happened in the bakery," Ingo apologized. "I just had mistaken you for someone else… someone I knew… Lanie Quinn."

I played dumb. "Wasn't she one of the tributes in the Hunger Games last year?"

"Yes." His eyes fell to the ground, and he was silent for a couple of seconds. At this moment, I realised just how much hope district twelve had on me, and I'd gone ahead to blow myself up.

"I've got to go," I said. "I'm visiting a friend, and I'm a little late."

"Of course," he said, backing away slightly to show that I could leave.

I turned away. I gave a subtle nod to Matthew. As I stepped away, I felt a hand grab me on the arm and turn me around.

"Excuse me…" Ingo said. His eyes were fixated on my neck, where my father's key and Nyal's ring glistened in the sunlight.

I snatched my arm away from his grasp. "Bye," I said quickly, and I walked away at just the same pace- if not faster.

"What was that about?" Matthew muttered.

I tucked my necklace under my shirt. Hopefully Ingo wouldn't recognise the key. After all, my father never showed it off to anyone for fear of getting it stolen.

"Where are we going?" Matthew asked, when I ignored his other question.

"Back."

Teah growled. "I'm giving you five seconds- no, three- to get back over the fence."

"We'll check the snares and pick more fruits." I didn't know why I was pushing Teah to the limit. Maybe I enjoyed rebelling. Maybe I was just liking it here so much.

Teah snarled.

We found another secluded area of district twelve, and Matthew crossed the wire before I did, like he was anxious to leave. I wasn't. I was nowhere near ready. I took one quick sweep of my home town, and swung one leg through the wires.

It was then, when I noticed the track.

It wasn't that noticeable, so it told me that it wasn't really used, but my eyes, so used to looking for detail for tracks in hunting, found the little tramped leaves that were still green and that tipped me off. Fresh. The track was fresh. And recently in use.

"I'll catch up with you later," I said slowly, stepping back fully into district twelve.

"What?" Matthew asked.

I took the earpiece out to get rid of the growling and pressed it into Matthew's palm. "Get out of sight. Give me five minutes." I also gave him my pack, but not the weapons.

I was probably imagining it, but I thought I could hear Teah's faint shouts coming from the earpiece.

I walked towards the track, checking carefully to see if anyone was following. It was all clear. I had never been in this part of town, and, I realised when the walk became two minutes long and the path turned to gravel, that it was because I had no reason to.

I knew where this path led to. Everyone knew about the Victor's Village. The houses were hardly used, but still, everyone knew about the grand mansions that were always empty.

My slow walking steps turned into a brisk jog as I neared my destination. If the facts were true, and they were, for would they be facts if they weren't, this would be where Nyal was currently living. Along with Thomas.

Nyal.

I swerved into the tree-line so no one could see me as the house came into view. It was huge. Two storeys high, not including the attic room. It was all a soft white. The curtains were lace, and when I got near enough to see through, I spotted plush red pillows.

Julia was on the chairs, her feet dangling of the end and swinging. There was a plate in front of her holding something that looked like a cupcake. Helena, Nyal's mother, was in the kitchen, sipping something for a porcelain teacup on a matching saucer. The tablecloth was white and had a book open, the book that Helena was reading. I couldn't see Thomas or Daniel, Nyal's older brother. They probably at the mines, though I didn't understand why. If they were this rich, I'd eliminate the risk of sending them to work underground.

Upstairs, a curtain flickered. Sarah, cradling little Lily, opened the window to let the air inside. She slowly swayed back and forth, while Lilly gurgled over the soft words of Sarah's lullaby.

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you

Along the gravel street, I spotted another house, this time, the palest of pink. Next to that, a house of light blue. Then purple. Then yellow. Green. Six houses in all. Six mansions that I was sure could fit the entire town.

The door clicked open, and I instinctively darted further into the darkness to hide. Julia stuck her head out the door, eyes bright and looking down the track, then the door shut again.

"He's not here yet, Mum," I heard her say through the open kitchen window.

"I thought I saw someone out there," she said, sipping her drink. Something about the way they talked told me that they weren't looking for Thomas or Daniel.

I walked around the house, counting its windows and the balconies under them, and found one that had the blinds down. It was the window on the opposite side, a couple metres walk from the next house, shielded by trees. In front of the window was a tree about three metres away from the glass. I took off my shoes, leaving only the socks on. Careful, I seized a branch, placed my foot on a ridge in the bark, and hauled myself up. The arrows in my quiver rattled. I straddled the branch and crawled along.

I stopped when I was close enough to the balcony. I leapt and placed one practiced hand on the balcony rails, used that to propel me forward and landed lightly on my feet. As guessed, the glass balcony doors were locked. I walked to the side of the rails and swung on leg over it. It wasn't a hard reach to the window, but there was a latch that prevented me from opening them. Reaching into my quiver for an arrow, I inserted the feathered end between the two windows. I lifted the arrow to raise the latch inside. Using the arrow as a lever, I wrenched one of the window panes open. It swung open with hardly a sound, despite the mansions not being used for several years.

I climbed the rail and into the window, landing on the carpeted floor. It was clearly Nyal's room. Not from the look of it, for there weren't any photos or objects that he owned. There was only his smell. The smell that I was hooked on and was currently suffering withdrawal from. The very same fragrance that I loved to breathe in.

I could tell that he didn't like this house at all. They way the room felt. Unloved. Like my quarters in district thirteen. I knew that I'd well over exceeded my time limit of five minutes, but I was reluctant to go.

I studied his room closely, walking around, careful not to touch anything. He must have spent a lot of time in this room, seeming that his smell lingered everywhere.

Suddenly I heard the sound of the door slamming downstairs, and unanswered conversation.

For two seconds, I stood frozen to the spot, my breathing halted. Then I sprang out of the window, swung over the balcony rails so fast that I landed ungracefully on my knees and elbows. Several arrows fell out of the quiver. My necklace slammed into my face. Cursing, I quickly gathered the arrows up, jumped into my shoes and into the darkness of the trees, just as I heard the sound of his door opening.

As I left, I gave myself the pleasure of one more glance. I spun around slowly, then my hand flew up to my necklace to where the ring dangled.

Nyal was standing at the window, eyes fixated into the distance, over the trees where I was sure the endless sky would be. He looked so _different_. He seemed fragile, by the way he held himself and the way his eyes focused away. As I watched, a glistening tear fell onto the window sill from his tanned-but-pale-skin like a lone drop of rain.

My first instinct was to run up and comfort him. Tell him I was fine. And to stop him from crying.

But I didn't do any of those things.

I spun around and fled.

Leaving the pieces of my shattered heart behind me.

Hey guys! 

I've never met you,

So this is crazy,

But you read my story

So review, maybe?

:D


	6. Chapter 6

_How many Presidents does it take to get rid of the Hunger Games? None. Because you can't._

**Chapter Six- Tobias POV**

It was done. No turning back. My black suit hung in my closet, dry-cleaned after yesterday's event. The black event. The wilted flower in my hand came from one of its pockets, found by the person who'd cleaned it. It was the same colour as the wreath of flowers that I'd placed on his grave, under the inscription on his marble tombstone.

Abraham Windsor

Loving husband, beloved father, respected President of Panem.

His legacy lives on in the reign of his son.

Who was I? His son, the naïve eighteen-year-old Tobias who watched his best hope explode on live television. Who could I work for now? Lanie had given me something that I could do. To help the people. For a reason. Now I was back at square one, hearing about Zelix's plans for this year's tributes.

That reminded me. Meeting at nine o' clock.

Peacekeepers accompanied me on my way to the meeting room. Their constant presence, even when silent, was something that I didn't fancy. But I'd been dogged by them all my life. Even as I child, I was an adult. I only truly felt like my age when Lanie was around.

There it was again. Her name.

What was she to me? Just another tribute? Couldn't be. Especially when I spent more than one night in front of the TV to make sure that she'd wake up again the next morning. I'd felt like murdering Zelix for making a mutt that looked like one of Lanie's friends.

Murdering. Oh, look, Tobias, that was almost a joke.

The meeting room was almost full. When I sat down, the meeting started. Seemed I was late.

Zelix didn't look happy. That mono-brow of his was creased so it looked like a hairy brown wave across his head.

"We have the results of number of Forbidden Children captured," he said. Then he scowled as he slapped a thin folder onto the glass table. Several sheets flew out and spilled onto my lap. Peacekeepers hurried over to pick them up for me, but I waved them away. What was I? An armless baby?

I swallowed hard as I looked at the profiles of this year's tributes. All of them had that same look on their face. The look that only Lanie didn't have. Theirs were fear. Hers had been determination.

I put them back in the folder.

"22 tributes," Zelix said through clenched teeth. "That's nowhere near enough."

Around me, the Council and other Gamemakers nodded like they didn't have minds of their own. Was only I the one opposed to all of this?

"Do you have a plan?" one of the Gamemakers asked. Partridge, I think his name was.

"Pardige, we've worked together for fifteen years, brining about the most talked about deaths in the Hunger Games history. I always have a plan, and you should know that."

Pardige settled back in his chair, obviously satisfied that the Hunger Games would not be as different as last year's.

"The numbers of Forbidden Children are down, but that is not it." Zelix whacked another folder onto the table. "Mentors are backing out, and nobody wants in."

Who could blame them?

"So here's my plan," Zelix said. "Mentors for districts six and upwards are fine. But it's the other districts we need to focus on-"

"The districts who gave us trouble last year?" Cuner cut in.

"Don't talk over me, Cuner," Zelix said sharply. "Mentors for seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven and twelve have gone. We can't find any replacements. No willing ones, anyway."

_Willing_ ones?

"So on the Victory Tours, we'll announce that previous Victors shall be the mentors. I did a bit of reading during the Hunger Games before the Rebellion, and that was exactly what they did. There'll be no mentor problems from here now on."

There was a pause where everyone considered this. I sat, watching their faces. Nobody looked like they were going to protest.

"I don't get how this solves the tribute problem." A council member piped up. "If numbers are down-"

"Then we'll send more in," Zelix said. A wicked smile spread across his face and I knew that this was what he was getting at. The plan that he was itching to set up. "More better yet, how about… we send in the mentors as well?"

There were a clash of words as everyone excitedly agreed. Everyone except for me. Wasn't it enough that the Victors had been in the arena once already? Twice?

How would they cope? Last year's Victors have barely bounced back, Noah, who had recently turned nine, was the youngest. And they were going to send a nine year old back to teach Forbidden Children?

"What?" I asked, aghast. "Send them in _again_?"

"Yes, my dear young President. Haven't you been listening?"

"Haven't _you_ been seeing? Have you looked out how the Victors are coping? That's because none of them are! And sending them in again… that's just- just-"

I struggled to find a word.

"All in favour of my plan?" Zelix asked. He raised up a hand.

Around the table, hands were in the air. There was a chorus of "Aye".

Then, at a signal, everyone slowly filtered out, several of them talking in anticipation of this year's Hunger Games. I stayed, standing and staring at the table and the folder with the children in it. My hands shook.

"I'm sorry, President Tobias. The council has voted," Zelix said, not sounding the least bit sorry. He clapped me on the back and left the room.

I needed to tell someone. About this bomb-shell. Someone I could trust, not someone who would betray me the moment I turned my back. Someone... Lanie trusted too.

I told my guards to leave. Pulling out a sleek silver phone from within my shirt, I found the number I wanted to call. She had to know about this.

"Rica. This is urgent."

I know that this was a short one, but the next one will be in Lanie's POV and be plenty longer. :)

Let's keep the review ball rolling, shall we?

:D


	7. Chapter 7

_Zelix may have a payback plan, but he's not the only one._

**Chapter Seven- Lanie POV**

When I saw Teah's expression after I landed in district thirteen, my knees started to wobble. In the craft, I had been rehearsing my excuses, and had reviewed them all. Even Matthew had helped me come up with good excuses. But individually compared to her face as I got out of the craft, I realised that they were all pathetic.

So I told her the truth.

"I'm sorry, Teah. I couldn't stay away."

But she didn't say anything to that, and that scared me more, like being in an eye of a hurricane. I knew that things were going to get a lot worse.

But not _this_ worse.

Everyone around the table was agitated. The meeting room wasn't hushed like it usually was before a meeting. Whispers were traded around the table, and even though I couldn't hear the exact words, I could sense the emotion that the talker felt.

Obadiah Ring paced back and forth. His wife, Haylette, was sitting down against the wall near the door. Her eyes watched her husband carefully.

Haylette's presence gave me a warning. She never usually came to meetings. Violet came occasionally, but more often didn't. Probably because she needed the extra time to apply all the make-up that the packages were sent with fortnightly.

Teah had deserted her chair, and was leaning against the wall, looking like she was trying to read some letters on the floor that were upside-down and backwards.

I was the one who broke the shell.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Everyone's eyes turned to me, and I felt like sinking into my chair.

"We received a message from Rica, given to her by President Tobias himself." Obadiah didn't look at me as he talked.

"Tobias is part of the Society?"

"_President_ Tobias. He had a meeting this morning with the council and Gamemakers. Rica relayed his message."

"Where?" I looked around the room. "Is Rica here?"

Violet rolled her eyes like I was stupid. "No, idiot. By _phone_. You probably don't know what that is, because y-"

"Can it, Violet," Christian snapped over her.

"Shut up," she said back.

"Quiet, you two," Obadiah said to his children. They went silent at once. He turned his head toward me, but didn't stop the pacing, and it was annoying me to keep watching him go back and forth. "Rica had his message, and said that it was urgent to tell you all. Especially you, Lanie."

I leant forward sub-consciously in my chair.

"Zelix had some special plans for this year's Hunger Games. Apparently, there is a shortage of Forbidden Children."

"So they're taking more?" I couldn't stand the thought of innocent kids going inside the arena and experiencing the things that I had.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Lanie," Teah murmured from her place by the wall.

"Then what?" I asked, slightly aggravated. "Just tell me!"

"There's also a shortage of mentors, many having backed out from the outer districts." Obadiah plus several others glanced at Teah. "So they're having the previous Victors mentor this year's tributes."

I thought about what this would mean for Peyton, Zavier, Noah and Nyal. Zavier, who wasn't even sane enough to speak without yelling. Noah who wasn't even old enough. Peyton, whose wounds with the Capitol were still raw. Nyal, who I'd seen crying.

"They're going to teach kids how to survive in the arena? That's horrible- it's repulsive. Listen, I saw Nyal today," Teah shot me a look, so I added for her benefit, "he didn't see me, but I saw him. He's barely coping." My words were just a whisper. "They can't do this."

"Let me finish, please, Lanie," Obadiah said somewhat impatiently. "Because of the shortage of tributes, they're also going to send in the mentors."

Inside my head, the gears worked hard for me to understand this. Two gear rotations later, I felt myself go limp in my chair.

"Nyal's going back in?" It sounded like someone was choking me.

"Yes. And everyone who is mentoring the tributes."

"That- impossible- can't- no-"

"They had a vote, and majority said yes. It was Tobias against the others, and even though he's the President, he can't beat that many votes. He tried, but because he failed, he told Rica to pass on the message."

"He should've tried harder," I said, my voice leaving me like a gust.

"He tried hard. But this is Zelix we're talking about."

Zelix brought back gushing waters of pulsing fury. I found my voice again, and this time I had to work to keep it quiet. "Do they know?"

"They'll know during the Tours."

I had to hold back a sob in front of them. I bit my lip hard, and I could imagine what I looked like. I looked like someone who couldn't hold herself together. Unable to cope, just like the others.

Somehow, the tributes who died have gotten the better end of the deal out of this.

"Excuse me," I said, my words as broken as I was.

I hurried out of the room, my hand over my mouth to stifle my scream. In the elevator, I couldn't contain it. My lungs wheezed as they struggled to keep up with my chest-racking sobs. I slowly slid down the walls of the elevator, not bothering to press a button. The doors were shut, and this privacy was what I needed.

I curled up into a ball, my tears falling on my lap and my cries muffled by my knees. My head against the wall. My hands gripping the silver key on my neck.

I'd already sacrificed myself just so he'd make it out. But he was still suffering. I'd kept myself away from him so danger wouldn't come. But it was coming anyway. He'd already won, but clearly, the Capitol was not finished with Nyal.

_My_ Nyal.

What was this? A plan for revenge? What was there to avenge? The three Victor spots that weren't supposed to exist? The only people who had the right to avenge were the families who'd lost their sons and daughters in this godforsaken games! The Capitol had no right… no right to make people pay. If anything, it was them… them who deserved the payback.

Run dry, I mopped up the tears on my cheeks with my sleeves. The training room… it was now the perfect sanctuary, not just for my vulnerability, but for my contained anger that was building up to revenge.

My revenge.

On the Capitol.

They were going to pay.

No matter what happened to me.

They were not going to hurt my Nyal. Again.

Matthew found me slaughtering all the dummies in the training room. He sat patiently on one of the mats as I made fluff out of their fillings.

"Are you okay- no, I shouldn't ask that."

I laughed humourlessly. "No, you shouldn't."

He leant forward and picked up a piece of dummy fluff. Experimentally, he blew it off his hand. "I think I was the only one who watched the entire Games last year. Do you know why I did it? Why I watched all those kids die? It wasn't because I enjoyed it. It was because of you. Held prisoner in the Cornucopia surrounded by those burly idiots… you still radiated all the hope in the world."

My swing slowed down half-way through when he told me this, so I only ended up decapitating a dummy half into its neck.

"I pretty much spent all my time beside you when you were in the coma, acting like some kind of star-struck little kid looking up to his hero. I have to admit, I prefer the way you look now than before. You look like Katniss Everdeen. Act like her too. But do you know what's missing?"

I pulled back the sword and continued hacking until the head was fully off.

"You need a Gale Hawthorne." He smiled. "Katniss couldn't be a Mockingjay without a Gale."

"What does that mean?"

"I know you're going to do something. But you need a friend. Like I said, a Gale. I want to be that friend, Lanie."

I didn't know if what this meant to him was the same as what it meant to me. "You want to help? You can't do that."

"What are you going to do about it?"

I drove my sword into a dummy's grotesque scarred face. "Do what I can."

"I want to help," he insisted.

I paused mid-swing and turned slowly toward him, sword still raised. "No. I can't bring you into this, Matthew."

"But I want to do something. I hate this place just as much as you do," he said, standing up. "I hate the Capitol as much as you do, and I want to do something about it just as much as you do."

He took two steps toward me, his face set into an expression that I knew no words of mine could defy. "I also want to get Claire back home."

"You want her out of here too."

"I don't want her involved in this. This society is dangerous. If we get found out, I don't want her part of it. As soon as I can, I'm sending her back to district two."

"Where your parents are."

"It's safer. Closer to the Capitol. They won't suspect her. But me, what can I do? I can't go back and stay with Claire. And I'm sick of being here every single day doing the same things. _I want to help you_."

"You don't want Claire involved. I don't want you involved either."

"I already am. For Claire, it's not too late."

Slowly, my sword lowered to the ground. Matthew took this as a sign of defeat. A small half-smile showed up on his face.

"So what we going to do?"

"_I _am getting out of here. _You_ are going to help me."

"Help you what?"

"Convince Obadiah."

He snorted. "That'll be hard."

"It'll be plenty hard," someone said.

Teah stood at the entrance, arms crossed. "I agree about doing something, Lanie, but I don't know if Obadiah will. Especially without a plan."

"That's why-"

"We need to think about this. We've got people on our side everywhere, Lanie. But they only cooperate under Obadiah's command. What are you planning."

"A bust. We could get them out of there."

Doubt coloured Teah's face. "And how will we explain their disappearance?"

"Train accident."

"And kill everyone else on board? It'll be a massacre."

"Aren't the Hunger Games already massacring everything?"

"So we don't need more bloodshed. Lanie, think. Remember what I told you yesterday? We have our Peacekeepers on the train."

I paused. Then I fixed her with a look. "Can you get me on the train as well?"

She smiled slightly. "Yes. As a helper. Women as Peacekeepers are bound to cause suspicion."

"Good. That way, they'll always be in my sight. Every step of the way. Up until the Capitol-"

"Where they'll give the announcement about the mentors. What do we do then?"

"Well… the mentors are going to get into the arena. So there has to be someone on the inside who could protect them."

"And who will that be?"

I turned to her suddenly, electrified.

"No, Lanie. I'll find someone else to do it."

"It has to be me. Listen, the moment the Capitol realises that it's me, they'll realise all their failures."

"But you're in the arena, where they can kill you with a press of a button."

"Yes, but-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa… wait a minute," Matthew said, throwing his arms up to break the conversation path. I'd almost forgotten that he was there.

"What?" Teah and I asked, impatient.

"You're not going into the arena again, are you?"

Teah and I exchanged a glance.

Matthew scoffed. "Lanie, you're so stupid. You can escape that, and you're going in _again_?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but Teah cut in. "Lanie, he's right. We could have plant our Gamemakers in there. They'd make sure everything is safe. Remember Plutarch Heavensbee in Katniss' Quarter Quell?"

I shook my head, but his last name was familiar.

"Heavensbee…" Matthew murmured thoughtfully. "Related to Oliver?"

"Yes. Oliver's great-great-grandfather or something. I lose track of the greats. But yes, he was a Gamemaker against the Capitol, and he helped Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair and Beetee out of the Quell when Katniss ruined the forcefield."

"Odair sounds familiar."

"Ruby's relative."

I shot her a questioning look.

"Most kids around here are related to the tributes in the Hunger Games of Katniss' time. Mostly because they knew about thirteen, and passed it on to their children, and used thirteen as a place to flee to when the Hunger Games started again."

"Wait, let's get back on track," I said, placing a hand on my temple to make sense of my thoughts. "Is there any way of making sure that they're safe in the arena?"

"Well, they won't be totally safe, but as safe as arenas come in. As for the train, Obadiah can call around for any volunteers. Most people here have served as help for the Capitol."

"No. The train is my job."

"At least have someone help you."

Before I could speak, Matthew called out. "Claire. She could help. She could also leave at district two, so I can get her out of here."

"But wouldn't that raise questions? Two kids come out of nowhere, offer their help as Capitol maids?"

"Three kids, actually," Matthew said. "I'll come along."

"No. Three new people are suspicious. Two isn't as much. One would be better, but because of the circumstances… We can't afford to have any risk on this. You would know all about that, would you, Teah?"

She smiled, obviously remembering all the sneaking around before the Hunger Games happened. Forbidden classes in the middle of the night. When we were all alive. "Yes, I would."

TEEHEE

"Is this your plan?" Obadiah asked, his hands together and his chin balanced on the tips of his fingers.

Teah had been our spoke-person for the entire consultation. I didn't want to ruin anything with my 'big-mouth'. Matthew and Claire sat beside me. Matthew had done a great job explaining to her. It seemed like I was the only one who couldn't seem to talk.

"Yes," Teah said. Her tone was perfect. Determination with the right hint of assurance. Assurance that nothing would go wrong. Assurance that I wouldn't go haywire on the mission.

"How much of our resources will need to be used for this task?"

"Not much. Just food for two days. A small bag of money. There'll be food on the train, and people on the way can help."

"Of course. We have the Masons in seven, the Odairs in four, Rica in three and the Hawthornes in two. That'll be where you'll get dropped off?" he asked Claire.

She nodded. "Mum and Dad'll help, certainly."

"Good. I have no problems for this trip, except for her preparation."

There it was again. Talking as if I wasn't even here.

"She's steady. When her actions are fuelled by the protection of others, she's perfectly capable. Did you see her performance in the arena?"

"Unforgettable." Obadiah stood up. "I call around for our connections. They should say yes, and at the end of the day, I'll tell you. There should be no problems. You'll start tomorrow. Now excuse me, I'll call President Tobias about our plans."

We smiled as we left his office.

Phase one of vengeance plan: successful.

Who's ready for phase two?

Thanks for the reviews guys, keep them coming. I actually do read them.

:)


	8. Chapter 8

_Glitz and glam. Hits and slams_.

**Chapter Eight- Nyal POV**

There was a small shriek of surprise and the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. I stood up to lock the door, but Julia flung it open, red from running and excitement.

"They're here," is all she said.

Then she disappeared.

I groaned, walking to the balcony and running hands through my hair, wishing that I could pull it out and give my prep team a surprise.

I leant on the balcony rails, watching the sun slowly rise. I wished bitterly that it would stop in its tracks, and I'd be spared from the oncoming make-over.

Too late, I heard my prep team talking below my feet. Sooner or later, they were going to barge in here, wrestle me into a chair and force their revolting make-up on me. And the clothes- jeez! I'd rather wear the skin of my kill.

My mother had readied the bath tub, but the water was probably cold, now. Why not show the Capitol how bad they fail at hiding what the Victors feel? Maybe I'd even take a swing at one of the cameras, just to give the audience a thrill.

I was the bad guy. Peyton was innocent. Zavier was the good one.

Zavier. He was a difficult topic. He didn't come by often, and neither did I. In fact, the first I'd ever seen him since the Capitol was yesterday. And it didn't make me feel better, either.

He had been in bed, Peyton sitting next to him. She had been reading something that sounded like a kid's story. The way she said the words had soothed him. Nothing else did. Peyton, as annoying as she was with that big mouth of hers, could do miracles if she could turn the volume down a notch.

Zavier had spotted me at the door a couple of minutes after I'd walked in. The last thing I'd remembered seeing was the sky-blue of the pillow he'd thrown at me. And the tortured look he had in his eyes before he started yelling and sobbing.

He was traumatised.

Depression, they called it. The Capitol nurses and doctors who think they could cure something with a single pill. One day I'd like to see how they digest it when it's shoved inside them through the other way.

I felt something warm slide down my cheek. I watched it fall toward the ground and disappear among the pine needles that the trees shed.

I cocked my head to the side and leant forward. Among the littered twigs and branches, there was something… something that was as straight as a ruler and couldn't have come from the branch nearest to the balcony.

The tip of the stick was sharp, a triangular something that glinted in the light of the rising sun. And at the end of the stick was something that I'd assumed was a bird's feather that had fallen from its nest. But there _was_ no nest. And it _was_ a bird feather.

A feather on a wooden stick with a pointed tip.

I imagined her poised with her bow, her eyes looking down the shaft to where her arrow was nocked, and aimed toward her prey.

An arrow. On the ground. Below me.

I leant closer to study more, to confirm what I thought, when a voice spoke behind me.

"You're not jumping off, are you?" Peyton said, a slight smile on her lips. "If you are, then take me with you. The prep team's arrived."

"You wouldn't leave Zavier," I said, my eyes still on the ground.

She shrugged. "What are you looking at?" she demanded, as I hadn't looked away, walking towards the edge of the balcony.

"Nothing." I straightened up. "Let's go look pretty."

She rolled her eyes and followed me out of the room.

The prep team were in the lounge room, cackling about current fads in the Capitol. Several argued about costumes worn by celebrities. One told Julia to twirl around so she could study her dress. She gave a few pointers about what to do with her hair. They were preoccupied and distracted, so I was safe for now.

Rica was the quietest, even though she was talking to my mother. She had a cup of tea in her bejewelled hand, and was inhaling the steam coming from the liquid.

"Helena, everything will be fine. Nyal will be safe on the train and for the entire Tour," Rica assured her.

My mother nodded then looked up as I took a step toward them.

"Nyal. You haven't bathed."

"I'm still clean. It's not like I went hunting this morning." At the sound of my voice, the prep team swarmed around Peyton and I. I recognised them from last year.

"Peyton," my mother greeted her, "how's Zavier?"

"He's fine. He's calmed down quite a lot, and I'm sure he'll behave for the Tour. Mrs Forlean and Holly are good, too." Holly was Zavier's little sister, and was having trouble understanding as to why her older brother had suddenly disappeared inside himself. It was troubling. Especially because she was only six. Mrs Forlean wasn't so confused. She was exhausted, and when she wasn't, you could see the anger in her eyes as to why the Capitol did this to her beloved son.

Rica stood up, and it was a signal. "Go," was what she simply said. The prep team nodded. Several walked out of the house. A couple had Peyton in tow. Rica and two others, a guy and a girl, helped me up the staircase to get me ready.

I zoned out the moment they started talking about cosmetics and all the beautifying mumbo-jumbo. I didn't know how the _guy_ could deal with the talk. Because- well, he was a guy.

The two of them, Rica had disappeared somewhere, started to lather stuff on my skin. They rinsed it off, towelled, and did some brushing with skin-tone powder. It took about an hour. An hour of looking up at the ceiling and avoiding the mirror intently.

When Rica walked in, the others filed out. She had a garment bag in her arms.

"How have you been, Nyal?"

"Fine," I replied automatically.

"Truthfully," she ordered, as she set the bags down and studied the work the others had done on my skin.

I took a deep breath. "I feel like I'm in pain every single fricking moment of the day."

She didn't care about my language. "That's what I expected." She unzipped a garment bag and did a motion with her fingers that told me to turn my back on her. "I have three children," she said unexpectedly.

I suddenly spotted the number of colourful gems in her hand.

"Where are they?" I asked. Three children… did she lose any with the one-child-policy thing that the Capitol had going?

"In another district. Scattered. I sent them there, for their own safety. Every day I think about them. I know that they are safe, even though I cannot see them, and that helps me cope with not being with them." She unzipped another garment bag. "I want you to think like me, Nyal. Think that she is simply in another place, where she is safe. You'll feel better, honestly."

"I want to be where she is," I admitted, as she handed me a pair of trousers to put on. "If she's safe, I want to be there too. I've had enough to danger."

"Who hasn't?" Something in her hands clinked and she put it over my head. "Look in the mirror."

I obeyed. I didn't how what I'd been expecting. Probably something revolting and out-of-this-universe. But I hadn't expected this. It was so simple. With all the goo that they'd rubbed into my flesh, I'd thought I'd be a green colour. But my skin was the same colour it had always been, but only cleaner.

I was dressed in blue denim trousers that ended at the knee. My t-shirt was white. The shirt over that was unbuttoned and plaid- mainly red. And on my neck…

On my neck was a silver ball-chain necklace with a silver ring thread through it. A thick ring with the design of a vine engraved on its surface, a small diamond embedded on the tip of one of the leaves. But that wasn't it. As well as the ring, there was a metal plate the length of my thumb and about an inch wide. Engraved on the plate was a tiger in mid-roar. An emerald for an eye.

"We had it designed like hers, but decided to engrave the vine instead of shaping it into one. The diamond's smaller too. The tiger… you know what it's for." She paused, studying my expression. "You like it?"

I nodded. "Why?"

"We thought that it would symbolise that you aren't over her. A symbol to show that the Capitol can't control your feelings."

"Like Katniss and the Mockingjay pin." I studied the incredible detail of the tiger.

"She was my hero," Rica said, nodding.

"Was?"

Rica smiled. "My hero changed six months ago." Her eyes softened. "I'll never forget her."

I was about to open the door when Rica grabbed my arm. "One last thing," she said. "Be unforgiving."

I nodded.

I walked down the stairs to where everyone was waiting. Thomas and Daniel had come home for early lunch from the mines. They were all smiles, but no words were traded. It was only when I noticed the cameras outside through the windows did I know why.

My mother, without the eyes of Panem on us, would have been beside herself. But her smile hid whatever worry she had as she pulled me into a hug. Her words were filled with her concern as she whispered them into my ear.

"Be safe," she fretted.

I knelt down to hug Julia, who was bouncing with joy for the cameras. Today she was extra cute, her pigtails in curls and her skin glowing. One of the prep probably worked on her.

"Be a good girl, okay?" I said, trying not to keep the words too close. After all, she was supposed to be my niece-in-law.

"Dad," she said, running into Thomas' arms.

Thomas just nodded towards me. He had one arm around Sarah, who was next to him. Lilly was nowhere to be seen. Of course. Daniel was my elder brother. Lilly, as my other sister, would have Daniel sent off to the arena as a Forbidden child. It was hard to remember that she was still hidden, especially when we had the space for her to always be around.

"Eat a lot," Sarah advised, before grinning and pulling me into a hug. During this, was when she said the words she meant to say. "Give the Capitol hell for us."

Daniel gave me a manly one-armed hug. "Come back to us, Nyal." The way he said it told me that he didn't mean it literally. Like I'd overheard in the kitchen. He'd said that I was lost inside myself.

Rica propelled me toward the door. I took one last look at my family, waved and stepped out into complete exposure of the cameras.

Rica's words, to be unforgiving, bounced around in my head as I ignored all the lenses turned in my direction. Rica escorted me to the station in a darkly-tinted car. I was grateful for the coverage and protection for the cameras. It was only a few minutes' drive to the station.

There, I had to let out a groan. An even bigger swarm of flashing lights and people were gathered. I couldn't even see the doors of the train.

It was an unpleasant group of tight bodies, hard plastic cameras, metal tripods and feverish words. I had the urge to shove them away and stick up a finger to broadcast to the whole of Panem. Accompanied with a couple of choice words that would have my mother frown.

Peacekeepers held a small narrow path to the doors of the carriage. Rica gave me a small push through, and I was glad when the doors slid shut to muffle out the sounds of the nosy crowd. I didn't think they were allowed to press their noses against the glass windows. Or else there'd be a tonne of work for the cleaners to do.

I sat down in one of the cushioned seats by the window. This train was a definite upgrade to last year's trip to the Capitol, when we were caught. We were stuffed into a one-window carriage that smelt of animals.

Each table before each seat was piled high with all sorts of food. Cookies, frosted cup-cakes, fruit, biscuits, pastries, crackers half-buried in dips and all sorts of snacks. The colours of the different frosting caught my eye. They reminded me of the varieties of dyes in the Capitol that Lanie had used to paint and camouflage herself. I tore my eyes away from the rainbow of hues.

The walls inside were panelled in a slightly dark wood. Several bright oil paintings of forests and beaches were hung up in gilded gold frames. The floor was carpet. Towards the other end of the carriage was a large sofa in front of a TV on the wall. Through the glass carriage door, I could see several helpers and Peacekeepers dressed in white waiting for an order.

The doors on the side of the train slid open with a small puffing sound, the noise of the crowd maximised and Peyton walked in, supporting a hobbling Zavier. He limped over to a corner of the carriage where there was a corner lounge with dozens of pillows. He settled into it and almost disappeared under all the down-filled cushions.

Peyton left him there to walk over to me. She was wearing a white shirt and tight denim trousers. Her hair was held back with a red head-band. Her t-shirt had a glistening-print of a roaring tiger. The green sparkling eyes that glared at me.

"Nice shirt," I said.

"I like your pendant," she replied.

Zavier was wearing a white shirt with a black vest unbuttoned. He also had denim trousers, but weren't tight and weren't cut off. He had a pair of sunglasses on that he didn't bother to take off, even though he was already in shelter. His hands wore two gloves that were cut off at the ends so the last third of his fingers showed. And a belt with the tiger on it.

Seemed like tigers were in fashion.

I was almost overjoyed when the train started to move and the cameras disappeared. The landscape became almost a blur, and the trees morphed into one big whirlwind of green.

Rica and several other members of the prep team entered our carriage. They seemed to be in a party mood, except for Rica. One already had a glass of something half-drunk in their hand. She stumbled and a couple droplets of alcohol sloshed over the rim of the glass and onto the floor.

"Whoops!" she shrieked, as she collapsed onto one of the seats.

"Oh, geez," Peyton muttered, as she started to nibble on a cookie. "Want anything to eat?"

"Maybe later."

I watched the prep member stand up and wobble precariously on her pair of killer heels. 'Killer' wasn't an exaggeration. A Cornucopia full of those would be deadly.

The drunk woman stumbled over. As she walked past Rica seat, Rica grabbed the glass of alcohol from the woman's hand, who didn't seem to notice. She tried to take a cupcake from the stand at our table, but ended up knocking over a jug of iced water.

The jug seemed to fall in slow-motion through my eyes. I saw the water swill toward the opening, and the jug toppled off the table. With a splatter, half the water splashed onto my lap and the jug bounced off my knee to roll on the train floor. The rest of the water spilled from the table-top and onto the rich red carpet, staining it crimson.

I flinched from the shock of the water as it soaked through the denim.

"Aw, come on," Peyton said, along with a curse. "Can we have a little help over here, please?" she called to the helpers in the other carriage.

I stood up and drops of water that hadn't soaked through yet ran down the trouser legs, past the hem and onto my skin. Several dripped onto the carpet. I took several serviettes from their holder and dabbed them on the material. Within seconds, the napkins were soaked through.

"Here," Rica said softly, handing me more serviettes.

I nodded gratefully. The puff of a door opening sounded, followed by the light hurried footsteps of a helper trying to get work done.

A slim, fit girl about my age knelt onto the carpet and pressed a towel onto the spill. A curtain of dark hair hid her face. An extra towel was folded over her arm.

"Excuse me, can you pass us a towel?" Peyton asked the helper. The girl stood up and Peyton's voice faltered. "The water's spilt onto him…"

The girl nodded and passed me a white cloth quickly. She immediately stooped down again to continue drying the carpet. The others retired back to their seats, the drunken woman struggled even with the help of other prep team members. She mumbled an apology.

A few dabs in, I realised that the denim was hopeless. I would have to go to my room and grab a new pair of trousers.

I bent down to help the girl, seeming that I had the other cloth.

Peyton spoke from her seat. "Nyal, you don't have to do that."

At her words, the girl attempted take the towel out of my hands and do the job herself.

"I'll do it," I insisted.

The girl looked up suddenly to fix me with a look, her hair parting around her face so I could see her clearly. I was locked into her stare, unable to move. I realised why Peyton had stumbled when the girl had looked at her. And I realised why I suddenly felt my eyes water and a cry try force its way out of my throat.

Her eyes were the brightest green. Glittered more than the emerald on my necklace. Lighter than leaves. But dark with a certain sadness. A green that mesmerised. A green that you could never forget. A green that no Capitol surgery could achieve.

A green like Lanie's eyes.

Things are heating up! Nothing else to say except...

GANGNAM STYLE!

Oh geez, that was random. Plenty more updates to come! And a heap of twists.

:)


	9. Chapter 9

_When will the fire stop burning?_

**Chapter Nine- Lanie POV**

Nyal's grip on the towel loosened, and I took the chance to yank it out of his hands. Rica helped him up and led him to his carriage- where his room was. She gave me a subtle look beneath the rim of her glasses.

I finished the job quickly, giving the spot a once over, and then wiping the table dry. Zavier mumbled something from his spot with the cushions.

"I know," Peyton agreed.

It was so hard, knowing that I was just here, but they had no idea. Harder than I thought. Here, Peyton was standing, looking at me because I was wearing scum-of-the-Capitol clothes, and I wished I could hug her and tell her everything.

Zavier, seated with the pillows, started to push them one-by-one onto the floor. Was I responsible for this? Responsible for sending Zavier into a haze where nothing made sense? If I was, did his family know? Did his mother curse me for rendering her only son insane? And Holly, his little sister who couldn't possibly know what was going on with her only brother.

Nyal… was the hardest. I took the jug up, intending to take it into the kitchens and refill it.

"Wait," Peyton said, taking me by the arm. There was a puffing sound behind me, and I knew that Rica had returned. In the glass of the door in front, I saw her reflection stiffen as she noticed Peyton.

"Yes, ma'am?" I asked. Ces, the helper on our side, had trained us very briefly. Always address everyone in a respectful way.

"What's your name?" She looked at me critically. I knew this face. It was one she used to determine if one was lying.

"Jade… ma'am." Teah had given me this name. I'd initially considered a name that sounded like my full name, Leynillin, but Teah said that this would cause suspicion, because Peyton knew what Lanie was short for. Also, my eyes were green.

"What district are you from?"

"District four."

"You don't look like-"

"Peyton, leave the girl to do her duties," Rica said, stopping Peyton from her grilling. I casted her a guarded grateful look.

I walked out the door, past the dining carriage and into the kitchen carriage. Claire was waiting, and I handed her the soaking towels.

"Here, lemme refill that," Ces said, taking the jug from me. "You did alright, you did, with that spill back there." Her accent was emphasised on the letter r. She was slightly tubby. Her hair was brown and shoulder-length, always pulled up into a messy bun.

"Thank you," I said. She disappeared to put the jug back.

"How was it?" Claire asked in a whisper, wringing out the towels in the sink.

"Hard." I opened an overhead cupboard and took out two fresh cloths. "I wish they knew."

"It's better that they don't." She placed the now-damp towels into a laundry basket under the sink. "Too many people who know has more risk."

"I think Peyton recognised me though… the way she looked at me."

"It was just your eyes. I reckon if Ruby were here, they'd look at her the same way. But remember what Teah said? Even if they recognise you and figure it out, you have to deny it. It's all for your safe-"

She cut herself off as Ces strolled in, humming to herself.

"And I can't wait to reach the Capitol!" Claire enthused, switching the subject without taking a breath. "I hear its gorgeous!"

"Oh yes it is," Ces agreed. The way she spoke had the last word broken into two syllables. "But their style is quite too weird for me, yes it is."

Claire and I exchanged a look as we both bit out lips to stop from smiling.

"Now," Ces said suddenly, her tone more serious than admiring, "you girls are certainly going to help me with them dinners, aren't you, girls?"

"Yes, Ces," we both chanted.

I was quite interested in knowing how they made the dinners that were so rich and exotic. Back in district twelve, I'd never learnt how to make anything harder than stew. And even the stew only needed a couple of ingredients to keep us happy.

But it turned out, cooking dinner was only about re-heating and assembling.

Ces kept sending us into the storage room to get packages labelled with what she wanted. A packet of chocolate sauce. A packet of marinated chicken.

All we had to do was reheat, and place them properly and in an appealing manner onto the plates and place them in the dining carriage.

"How do you do that?" Claire asked incredulously, staring open-mouthed at one of the main course dishes I was setting up.

"I like art," I said, drizzling gravy over the chicken.

"You're making mine look horrible," Claire muttered.

A grin split my face as I took the opening. "It already does look horrible, even without me here."

She hit me playfully in the arm, sending spurts of gravy onto the bench top. "Shut up."

I laughed, until I saw the look in Ces' face. "Clean it, girl," she said, shoving a cloth at me.

It was quiet for a couple of minutes, where I plated up several dishes and Ces took them into the dining carriage. Then Claire spoke.

"How are you feeling?" Her eyes raked my face, scanning for an answer.

"What? Why would you ask me that?" I placed my finished plate on the counter.

"Because… you've changed. I mean, a just a few minutes ago, we were laughing. You never laugh."

"I do laugh."

"Not like that. It was always hollow. But now… anyone could see the difference. Just being near them… it helps, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. But part of me's scared that when the times comes for them to know, it won't go back to the way things were."

"That's still going to be in a long time, though."

"I don't think so."

There was a pause, where I sensed her going over my answer, then she took a deep breath. "You have other plans, don't you? Plans that you didn't tell anyone."

I opened my mouth to answer, when Ces bustled in.

"Come on, girls! No chit-chat. No time for that. We need spoons, forks, knives, glasses. Food! We need the food!"

Looking through the glass, Nyal and the others came through. Peyton had an arm around Zavier and helped him to his seat. Rica and the prep team came in. There was an empty chair where the intoxicated woman should have been.

"Food!" Ces shrieked, seizing my arm and placing a plate into my hands. She shoved me towards the door so hard that I would've slammed into it, except it opened.

Nyal, seated closest to the door, looked up as my foot landed heavily in front of me to keep my balance. I straightened up and looked away, walking to where the last prep team member was seated.

I placed the plate in front of him and walked back to the kitchen, staring pointedly ahead.

I started on the next main course dish. Grilled fish on a bed of sweet and sour sauce. I piped the red, thick liquid onto the plate in a wide zigzag and placed the slice of fish on top.

With Claire's help, we finished the ten plates, even when we only needed to make nine, but Ces insisted that we continue to make one more, just in case the other prep team member would 'stop being passed out'.

"Claire, go get vegetable soup packages. Quick, quick!" Ces urged. Claire went into the storage carriage. Then Ces took my arm firmly. "Girl, I'll go get them dishes, and you serve these ones, okay? Better do it real quick. Don't want them to go hungry, do we? Do we?"

She was out the door before I could mumble a yes.

I took a plate in each hand, trying not to tremble. As soon as Ces lifted the first plate off the table, I stepped into the dining carriage.

What struck me was the silence. There were no good-natured joking, no words traded over the food. It was sullen all around the table.

I put the plate in front of Peyton, who was opposite Nyal. I pulled my hand back quickly to hide the tremors. I hastily placed his plate in front of him. My hand was shaking so hard that I knocked over a candelabra. My hunting reflex kicked in, and my left hand shot out to catch it before it hit the table.

Nyal's hands flashed out as well, but not before mine did.

"Are you alright?" he asked, as I stood the candelabra upright again.

"I'm fine," I muttered, eyes on my hands. "Sir," I added.

I walked back into the kitchen, where I was immediately assailed by Ces.

I ignored her as Claire assured me. "I'll serve," she said, and she balanced two plates on each arm and left.

I tore open the packages of the vegetable soup, trying to keep my thoughts on the food and not wandering. But I couldn't. This task only needed my hands, nothing else.

I was glad that Rica had the sense not to deck Nyal out in something outrageous. The simple plaid shirt, it was so casual. So _him_. But Peyton… what was Rica risking with the giant tiger on her shirt? What was she trying to get through? If anything, that tiger would just enlarge the targets on their heads, and that was something I didn't need.

Ces placed a packet of herbs onto the bench, as well as a bottle of unsweetened lemon juice. She emptied the dishwasher and stacked the clean plates onto the counter. I sprinkled my the herbs on the edge of the soup, and the juice into a spiral towards the middle. Two fresh mint leaves in the centre to garnish.

As I placed the last two leaves on the last bowl, Ces started to collect the empty plates and Claire began to serve.

I headed to the storage room on Ces' orders, keeping in mind her words. It was colder in here, and dark, except for the bluish lights of the fridges lining the walls. I walked to the last section of the carriage, where the over-head sign said 'Dessert' in big capital letters. On the refrigerated shelves were labels. The top-most shelf had 'Day One- Dinner- First Dish: Vanilla Wafers, Chocolate Sauce, Mixed Berries.'

I took ten of each package and carried them into the kitchen.

On a square plate, I piped a dab of sauce and pressed two wafers to steady them. Another dab, and I placed the last two wafers on top of the first, but in a different direction. A messy drizzle of sauce. A small pool of chocolate next to the mixed berries.

I repeated the process until all dishes were filled, and once again, Claire served them.

I sighed and leant against the bench, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. Then I spotted the mess of plastic and paper packaging. Groaning inwardly, I opened one of the cupboards, pulled out the trash can and swept the entire jumble into the bin.

"Tired, are you, girl?" Ces asked, as she bent over to take a dish from the washer and dry it.

"Just a bit." Outside the carriage window, it had gotten darker. The sun was almost at the end of its journey into night.

"Well, get a move on, then! Dish two, come on, come on!" She clapped her hands, sending a small shower of water into the air. I flinched, and walked once again, into the storage carriage.

'Day One- Dinner- Dish Two: Triple-Flavoured Ice-cream, Sprinkles'.

On the shelf was one large container. It had the weight of a baby doe, but I managed to haul it all the way to the kitchen. The ice coating the container didn't help me hold it, my fingers were starting to go numb from the cold, and when I caught Nyal's eyes staring at me through the glass, I lost my grip entirely.

It tumbled out of my hands and landed on the floor with a heavy and very loud thud.

Ces was on me in a second and started to shriek at me. The tip of the towel she was using flicked me painfully in the face. The piercing shrillness of her words hurt my ears. I felt the tip whip me on the lip, and a bead of something warm drip down my chin.

"Pick it up, girl, pick it up!" she screeched.

"Ow- stop-" My fingers slipped around the container, which was harder to hold as the ice had half-melted, leaving a wet and slippery surface. I put it on the bench. I dabbed at the cut on my lip.

Ces handed me a spoon, but her small movement radiated quiet anger.

Silently, I scooped one curl of each colour ice-cream into each bowl with shaking hands. I quickly showered a small amount of sprinkles over the hills of coloured cream.

Claire gave me a small sympathetic smile and left to serve the last dish. When she returned, the dishwasher was whirring and Ces handed us two bowls of steaming soup. It was simple, but grander than I was used to. Food in district thirteen almost tasted like dirt.

"Oh," Claire said, sniffing the soup. "Smells way better than thirteen's."

"Tastes better, too," I said, sipping it.

"Get some sleep girls," Ces said. Now that there was no one to serve, she was a lot calmer and more likeable. "I'll wash them dishes."

The second-last carriage was ours. There were twenty helpers on the train. Three, Ces, Claire and I, were the cooks and were on standby. Another three were our replacements. Each Victor had two helpers that rotated. Eight Victor helpers. The remaining six were cleaners and launderers. Half of us had the carriage toward the front of the train. The other half, that was us, toward the back, close to the Peacekeepers' Carriage.

The Helpers' Quarters were crowded. There was the aisle space, and that was it. Five beds were placed end to end on the side, and I was lucky enough to have a window to myself. Below the mattresses were drawers and cupboards to store our things. We had no privacy, except for a curtain that we could only draw around our bed during morning or night. We shared our bathroom with the Peacekeepers, which had the carriage behind. Today, Carriage Two was on duty. Tomorrow, it would be Carriage One. We would alternate.

I drew the white curtain and changed out of my white clothing. I swapped for a pair of thin shorts and an undershirt. Opening the curtain again, I slipped into bed. Claire did the same. We mumbled our goodnights and she drifted off to sleep immediately, free of the excitement she'd had this morning when she was finally getting out of thirteen.

My thoughts now wandered unbound, because I had no excuse to push them away. I didn't really want to force myself asleep, either, so I floated. Drifted.

Everything was a whirl of emotion. Happiness from being close. Longing for them to know. Sadness for being that distant. Anticipation for tomorrow. A small buzz from catching him looking at me. Slight embarrassment from dropping that container of ice-cream. But under it all, there was the unescapable emotion, the undying, simmering anger, and boiling hate, topped off with the incomplete desire for raging revenge.

That night in my dreams, every time I reached out to touch him, he disappeared in a mist.

It's been ages since I'd last updated, but there's a reason. My computer started mucking up on me.

But oh well, everything's fine now. And to make up for it...

I'm updating twice in one day! Next chapter, go, go, go!

:D


	10. Chapter 10

_Zelix is an a-grade moron, pain in the ass and world-class nutjob._

**Chapter Ten- Nyal POV**

Green. Green. Green. Green, this. Green, that. Everything was green. Worse of all, it was her kind of green.

She didn't show up, not personally, but the server girl did. Her hair in a bun. Bow in left hand. Quiver of arrows slung on her shoulder. Wearing arena clothes. Just like Lanie.

But not like Lanie.

I was shivering when I woke up, even though I was cocooned under a thick embroidered quilt with flowers on it. Not my style.

I flinched when the world outside was green, too.

It had been hard enough to sleep last night. Zavier wouldn't give me a break with all the yelling. But then, maybe I'd joined in a bit later. My throat was a bit sore.

The silver necklace was cold on my skin, so I hurried to throw some clothes on. I walked out of my bedroom and walked down the narrow corridor of all the carriages to the dining carriage. Almost everyone was up. Even the woman who'd spilt the water on me during her drunken moment was awake, her bloodshot eyes fixed on her cup of coffee.

Zavier had bags under his eyes. As did Peyton. So I guess last night had been pretty restless for everyone.

As I sat down, a server girl with light brown hair placed an empty in front of me. I could tell that it wasn't her, just the way she moved.

The other one… her movements were lithe, nimble. Cat-like even. The way she'd caught the falling candle-holder before I did. Fast. Also, her footsteps were quiet. Like a trained huntress.

And her eyes. The colour green.

It was as quiet as yesterday. Except for the sounds of spoons and forks on plates, there was silence. Until Rica spoke up.

"In an hour, this train will reach district eleven. We'll pick up Noah. Then we'll continue on to district ten, and onwards until we reach the Capitol. After that, we'll loop back to district twelve and eleven again for the celebrations. Any questions?"

"Can I sleep for the entire Tour?" Peyton grumbled into her jam toast.

"No." Rica lifted a hand to straighten her glasses, and the jewels in her skin caught the light. I blinked hard.

I was only able to stomach one dish, so I left the table early. I had one free hour, but if I could sleep without the nightmares, I would. I decided to kill time looking around the train.

Each carriage had someone's room. The entire bedroom took up almost the whole carriage, except for a small length along the east train wall that was the corridor. Every wall of the train was panelled in wood. The carpet was red and vibrant enough to not invoke blood-filled memories. The carriage after mine was Noah's, so it was empty. I continued walking into the connecting carriage.

There were two glass doors here. I peered into the first glass. Rica's room. The next door was the entrance to some kind of giant wardrobe. Rack after rack of garment bags with white labels. Our costumes, presumably.

The next carriage was untouched, but also had two doors like the one before. Noah's stylist.

The next carriages were occupied by the prep team, plus two empty carriages for Noah's prep. I began to wonder about how long this train actually was when I entered the carriage for the last two rooms. There was a curtain drawn across the glass door to the next carriage, and that piqued my interest.

I stood in front of the glass, expecting it to open. But it didn't. Curious, I placed a hand on the door, and it slid open, startling me.

The room wasn't fancy. The beds were stuffed together. No panelled walls. No velvet sheets. Or flowers on pillows. Striding across the carriage, I placed my hand on the door just to see if it would have the same effect. Nothing.

There was a puffing sound, and at first I thought the door had opened, but in the reflection, two green eyes looked at me.

I'd obviously surprised her. She was a couple of steps inside the door, and the helper behind had to shove her to get her going.

Her friend spotted me.

"Victors aren't allowed in there," the helper said. "Or in here."

"What's in there?" I asked.

"Peacekeeper's rooms. Nothing much to see."

My eyes wandered over to hers, on their own. But she'd already turned away, busied herself with straightening out the sheets on her bed which were already straight.

"Right." I tore my eyes away from her.

I shoved my hands in my pockets as I walked out.

"Where'd you go?" Peyton asked suddenly from inside one of the rooms, surprising me by lying on her stomach on one of the prep team member's beds. I peered inside the open door. "You're not allowed there. You know that?"

"Now I do," I said, walking inside.

"What were you looking for? Wait- let me say that again. _Who_ were you looking for?"

"Nobody. I was bored."

"You looking for Jade?" she asked, as she crossed her ankles in mid-air.

"Is that her name?" Then I realised that I'd let my guard down.

"So you _were_ looking." She rolled off the bed and landed on her feet. "Why?"

"Nothing. Just drop it, okay?"

I shouldn't have asked. I was talking to Peyton, after all.

"She looks like Lanie, doesn't she?" Peyton crossed her arms. To anyone else, it would have just been a simple, casual movement. But to me, she was readying herself. Just in case I took a lunge for her.

Which I certainly felt like doing.

"Maybe it's just the eyes," she said. "Oh, Rica. She's looking for you. Something about clothing. Probably."

Out of all the people, I reckoned that she was the one who'd coped the most getting out of the arena. Of course, she didn't escape everything. Because we'd copped the pain and were mentally and emotionally unable to hold ourselves for the cameras, the job was all hers.

Rica was waiting for me in her costume room. She had several garment bags on the rack next to her, and had one in her hands.

"Suiting me up?"

"No. Just wanted to make an excuse." She placed the bag back on the rack and made sure the door was closed. "Three weeks, Nyal. This tour goes for three weeks. I want to know if you're going to be able to cope with everything. They'll want interviews, answers to questions that delve deep, but most of all, they'll want to know how you're coping."

Interview coaching? Great. Mentors were supposed to accompany us on this trip, but Teah had all but vanished off the face of the earth. Didn't think she'd be able to smile when she remembers that she's the reason Lanie's gone.

Gone.

Rica watched me over the two minutes that I mentally struggled. If she noticed the way my hands curled into fists, she didn't say. Maybe she was too busy looking at the way I was trying to burn the floor with my eyes.

"They'll ask about her, Nyal," she said, as soon as my grip relaxed.

"Then I'll let them ask. I'll make them wait until they realise I'm not going to answer."

"You'll have to. If you don't, Zelix is going to think he's gotten through to you. That he's defeated you. He'll think that you're vulnerable."

"Do you think that I give a pancake about what he thinks?"

"No. But Panem does. They'll think that their hope has been extinguished."

"What hope?"

Rica sighed. She took off her glasses and polished the lenses with her sleeve. Only then I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. "Maybe I should start from the beginning."

"You should."

"Lanie caused a massive wave when she appeared on stage that day when you were introduced as tributes."

It all came back, along with a lump that lodged itself in my throat. Lanie hadn't been dealing well with her father's death. You could've told that by the way her dress hung on her bones. She had saved Julia. But brought herself a death sentence in the end.

"She embarrassed Zelix in a way that no one had before. On live television. In view of all of Panem. She'd forced him to let what everyone thought a failure go free. He had the original idea for Forbidden Children, Nyal. She, a Forbidden Child that he despised, had ordered him to release Julia. And he did. On the orders of a person made illegal by the law he made. And she played on the crowd's pity and needs for entertainment, so right in front of everyone's eyes, she broke a tiny bit of his pride."

I scoffed. Pride. Zelix could only be inhuman if he'd built up all his pride from killing those innocent kids.

"This gave the outer districts hope. Several of them had had enough of seeing children, whether they be theirs, their neighbours, friends or relatives, killed for the joy of others. They planned."

"Planned what?"

"To overthrow the Capitol. In every district, a handful knows of the Rebellion. If Katniss, the Mockingjay, had done it before, they could do it now. But they needed their Mockingjay to survive. They needed their tiger. Their symbol of hope."

"And Lanie… she was their Mockingjay?"

"Exactly. Imagine the waves of changed she caused the moment she stepped on that stage. And when she had that rant during the interview in front of Panem, that wave turned into a tsunami. Imagine the effects she had. More hope.

"Everyone wanted her to win. Everyone loved her. She was their perfect symbol of Rebellion."

"But there weren't any news about uprisings or riots." At least, I thought there wasn't…

"They were careful this time. Also, they knew that Lanie had angered Zelix, and that lessened her chances to survive in the arena. They waited."

"But Lanie… she's gone. So how-"

"Exactly. They had hoped so much that they could overpower the Capitol with Lanie to lead them, that when she was gone, their hope couldn't be quashed. Plans ruined. No. They simply shifted to someone else. Lanie was one half of the symbol, and the other was…"

"Me." I fixed her with a look. "But why? Why me? I don't know how to sway the crowd like she does. What she had, it was like a power."

"It was, wasn't it?" Rica's eyes slid from past to present, as if remembering something. The smile on her lips was one that a person had from getting a joke that no one else did.

"So what do I do?" I asked, when Rica didn't stop being so day-dreamy.

"Show Zelix that he hasn't won. Show Panem that they don't have any reason to lose hope. Show them the tiger, Nyal."

* * *

The train pulled over to the station. The scene looked helluva like the one in district twelve. The cameras. The flashes. The people. Except for the immense green. There was a small proportion of houses. Then the enormous world of neatly cultivated food.

The door puffed open. Noah stood there. A nine-year-old turned eighteen by publicity, popularity, and the stupid Capitol. Not to the mention, the arena. All of this made him older. And his stylist had emphasised it.

His hair was gelled up in spikes. His denim trousers were slightly faded at the knee. There was a leather cuff on his left hand, two inches thick, and had silver studs. A pair of headphones around his neck, unused. A black shirt with bold silver block letters. '_When I was younger_…' And a roaring tiger in place of the letter 'o'.

We were in a jungle.

As soon as the train started moving, his prep team disappeared to their rooms. Zinta, Noah's stylist took Rica into a hug. They probably coordinated with the outfits.

"Hey man," I said, tousling his hair for a bit of a joke.

He shook my hand off. "Ha, ha. The gel's going to stay on your hand for hours." He grinned, and for a second, I could see the child that the Capitol had yet to have changed. "Aw. Where's all the food?"

"Peyton finished it all," I said, nodding toward her.

From her space beside Zavier in the corner, she shouted, "Hey!" Then she nudged Zavier softly on the arm and pointed to Noah.

"Noah?" he mumbled. Then he turned to Peyton, completely confused. "He's too old to be."

"He is," Peyton reassured him.

Zavier smiled then turned back to tracing a flower on the pillow on his lap.

"How's it been?" I asked him.

"Mummy's upset. She spends about half a day at my sister's grave. Our house is _so_ huge, but it feels so empty, even with Nate. He's two now and he's almost hardly ever hungry. Annoys me to death because he's tall enough to open door handles. Barges into my room and messes everything up. Once, he dialled our district's mayor by accident."

"What happened then?"

"Nothing. Luckily our mayor's son answered. But Nate… he's so happy now. He's going to grow up healthy. He has a future now."

"Unlike before."

"Yup." His eyes softened. "But I'd rather be the way it was before, than after."

There. The words of a man spoken by some nine-year-old kid. If he was truly still as young as he was, he'd be having the time of his life in his new mansion, sliding down the rails of the staircase instead of walking down it.

Like I would've. If this were somewhere else.

But it wasn't. This was Panem. Where all kids with brothers and sisters feared to be executed by other kids who were probably just as scared. Where the ones in power don't give a damn about the others who ask for their help and get up after falling in the ditches. The ditches that are almost as deep as my hatred for Panem.

But most of all, my hatred for Zelix.

Feels nice to be updating again.

A couple more chapters up my sleeve. I'm still writing, and this story's nowhere near finished.

I love reading all your reviews.


	11. Chapter 11

_Showtime._

**Chapter Eleven- Nyal POV**

Days pass like the clock can't be stuffed slowing down. And when it does, it's at the worst moments. Like speaking to the crowds where the families of the kids I killed stand listening. And being asked questions where I don't want to answer with any words other than suggestions as to where they could go shove their microphones up.

Trust me, I felt like shoving it up them myself.

District after district. The worst were the first ones, where we'd allied up with the kids. I could only choke out an apology. These were the times where Peyton's curse-of-a-mouth became a blessing.

Over the nights, I became more sleepless. She with the green eyes showed up more in my dreams, as well as in waking life. Flitting about and cleaning.

When I could sleep, it was like zombies having fun in an apartment building. Night of the living hell. Terror time. I became worried that the glass doors would break from having trouble keeping the sound in.

Rica started using more make-up on me to try hide the dark bags under my eyes. I suggested sun-glasses, but I couldn't keep wearing them forever. They'd think I'd gone blind.

And they needed their tiger to have vision.

This was my role. In every speech, I spoke about how I wouldn't let Lanie's death go in vain. That I'd do something about it. And the person responsible would pay very, very dearly.

Cameras flashed feverishly even before I stepped foot on the station. Peacekeepers quickly appeared, pushing back the crowd to keep the red carpet clear. But they could do nothing about the roses that already littered the carpet.

I felt like tightening my tie until I strangled myself.

First up, an interview in front of Panem with Gemini Winters. I wasn't comfortable with this one. If Lanie were here, she'd back off, but without her, I was free to be hit on at any time.

The red carpet cut off in front of a dark-tinted car with open windows. Each Victor had one car. The sunroof opened, and I stood up through it, smiling at all the people I hated.

The stage loomed up ahead, and I couldn't rehearse inside my head with all the noise that the crowd was doing. I had no idea how Zavier was coping, but I guess he's pretty used to it, with spending almost twenty-four hours a day with Peyton.

When I was about a couple of metres away from the stage, an arm suddenly leached out from the wall of Peacekeepers and grabbed my tuxedoed arm. I paused in my tracks, surprised that someone could have such a grip. I looked down at the non-manicured, non-polished hands, then up to the owner's face, who was just about to be overwhelmed by the pressing of the Peacekeepers.

It took a while for me to register her face under the guards, but the light caught her green eyes for only a second. Then highlighted the wrinkles surrounding them. As well as the two children beside her.

Lanie's mother.

Her green eyes spoke so much words, but then her grasp broke, and she was shoved back to melt into the crowd.

I was shaken as my feet took me to the foot of the stage. The steps were also red-carpeted, and I kept my eyes fixed on them. Lanie's mother was here. Watching me. Could she know of the plans? Of the symbol? Was she one of the people included in the plans as well?

Gemini Winters started off my saying my name to the masses of people, and that was when I realised that I was alone, and that Peyton, Zavier and Noah were nowhere. I was going to sweat through all the make-up.

"Nyal," she crowed. "How does he look _this_ good?" she asked the crowd, and they answered with roars.

As they died down, I sat into the chair.

When she sat in hers, I noticed that she scooted closer a bit. Come on, I was only 17.

"How's it been, Nyal?" She did that thing where she batted her inch-long purple eyelashes.

You know bloody hell how it has been. "Upset, of course. Some days, I still don't believe that she's gone. There isn't a night where I don't think of her. But I'm functioning fine."

"Are you available?" she said, batting her eyelids again.

"A- what?"

"Are you available? Are you single?"

Only people in the Capitol would be so insensitive that they'd care more about my relationship status than my actual wellbeing.

"Literally, yes, I'm single." Then my voice overrode all the whoops that had begun to start up. "But no, I'm not available. I'll never be again."

Silence. Where disappointment rode.

"How did you cope?" Her face was in half-pout. "People are asking."

"I feel like I need to avenge her, somehow. And that keeps me going. I won't stop until I've had my revenge."

"Revenge?" She shifted nervously. "Revenge on who?"

"Who killed her, Gemini?" I asked her. She looked uncomfortable, like she hadn't expected herself to suddenly become interviewed.

"T-technically, she killed herself." She was confused.

"Using what?" I didn't relent with the questions. I was asking the questions, now.

"A b-bomb."

I leant back in my chair, looking relaxed. "How did the bomb get in the arena?"

"Parachutes… to the Careers."

"Why were we in the arena in the first place?"

"Because you were Forbidden Children."

"And why are we Forbidden?" The crowd was silent again. Waiting.

"Because of a law-"

"And who made that law?"

Gemini stuttered, then her eyes widened as she realised the answer. The people gasped collectively.

"_Who made that law_,_ Gemini?_" My voice was hard.

"Z-Zelix Freehold, the Gamemaker." The skin on her face looked like it wanted to vomit out the cosmetics.

"There you have it," I said, looking into the cameras like I'd assumed the interviewer role.

It took a while for Gemini to be 'normal' again. Or, as normal as one could get in the Capitol sense.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Panem, Nyal Copperhue."

I met their cheers with my back and disappeared behind the stage. They were all there. Pale white. Wrinkles criss-crossed Zavier's tie where he'd twisted it. He and Peyton went on stage while Noah clapped me on the back for support.

"I admire your guts, Nyal."

"Then I supposed you'd admire them more when Zelix rips them out of me." I sat down and hung my head in my hands. "There's no way I'll get out of this in one piece."

"Who will?" Noah fiddled with his bow-tie. "In my district, people are starting to stash some of the harvest."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Yes. But even a rat can sense the oncoming war. No one's going to get out of this unscathed. Some people are going to lose something or someone, somehow. Whether it's an arm, leg, mother, father, house, money or dignity. Everyone's going to be affected. But it'll be the only way to stop all of this."

"You sound so old." Why couldn't Noah be the tiger? Everyone would love him. He hardly had any flaws. Me? I was a scarred, heart-broken, sleepless, make-up covered person who'd stood by his girlfriend had exploded to bits by saving him.

"You _look_ old.

"Touché."

Noah left as the other two came. To my surprise, Zavier let go of Peyton's arm and sat down next to me.

"Lanie," he mumbled.

"Yeah." I rubbed my eyes, then realised that it was a mistake when I saw the powder on my fingers.

"Gamemaker… fault."

I looked at him. I'd lost my best friend, the guy who'd helped me chuck rotten berries at Manley's house at night, kept an eye out for me when I was trying to pick the lock open on his back door to invite the robbers, and covered for me whenever I pranked anyone else. The boy I'd met looking through our trash for something to salvage and began helping me looking for other rubbish. The guy who'd once helped me play hide-and-seek with Lilly, and scared the hell out of me when I was the seeker; he was gone. But I knew, somewhere deep, that he was there, and he'd just run away when he couldn't take it all. He was coming back. Slowly. And one day we were going to start hurling rotten fruit at grumpy old Peacekeepers again.

"Are you going to help me, Zave?" I asked, using the nickname I'd given him.

He nodded and grinned. For a moment, I'd thought he'd come back, but then he left again, and his eyes became glassy.

* * *

People drifted around the room. Talking. About the latest fashion. About the oncoming Hunger Games. About President Tobias. About Lanie. About me. Me and Lanie. But most of all, my interview.

Some of them drifted because they had silver platters of crackers that they had to serve. Others drifted because they were wanted to explore. I drifted because I was avoiding people.

But of course, Peyton couldn't be avoided.

"Thought you'd given up." She stood beside me, eyebrow raised. She jerked her chin towards the glass of alcohol in my hand. "Drinking."

"You thought wrong," I muttered. The glass in my hand was made of crystal, it seemed. A lemon wedge on the edge of the glass.

She crossed her arms disapprovingly, then, knowing that I'd probably be more likeable when I couldn't think properly, walked off.

Someone flitted over, but gave me no reprimand. Tobias stared at the marble floor, fiddling with a couple of cue cards for his upcoming speech.

"Is that good?" he asked me, eying the alcohol.

"Mm-hm." I downed the liquid fire in one. "Won't remember a thing tomorrow."

I reached out towards a passing waitress, a silver platter on her hands covered with glasses. She looked like she was going to swerve away from my reach, but I snagged one, careful not to spill much.

"I wish I could," Tobias said forlornly. "But it's not good an image for a new President."

I gave a non-committal shrug. "You know…" By the way my words stuck together, I knew that the alcohol was doing its work. "I reckon everything would have been better if there was only one Victor. None of this… crap." I waved the glass around as I tried to find a good word, and some liquid sloshed out. "I.. forgot what I was going to say."

Everything seemed like they were fading away. Blurred images. Their words seemed just as twisted as mine.

I didn't notice when Tobias left. I only became conscious of him on a podium in the building, his words booming when he spoke into the microphone. Something about… an announcement?

I blinked hard, struggling to zoom into his sentences. Make the words out one by one.

Tobias stepped aside as a guy in a purple and gold-fringed robe stood forward. Blood roared in my ears and cleared away the clog that made things not make sense. This was the guy. The guy who ruined everything. The guy I'd threatened to kill on national television.

Zelix Freehold smiled to the crowd. "I am deeply honoured to deliver this announcement to you all. And to our… charming Victors."

His eyes met mine.

"I am pleased to say that last year's Victors, will become the mentors of this year's tributes!"

It took a while to know what he'd said, because the cloud in my head hadn't cleared yet. When that while was over, I understood, and I took a couple of liquid-filled glasses off a waiter's platter.

Then I drunk until I was immersed in the cloudy haze of probably-won't-remember-anything-tomorrow.

Sorry for the big, unexpected break, guys.

Last time I was going to update, my computer stuffed up.

But there's a new update, so...

:D


	12. Chapter 12

_Drunk._

**Chapter Twelve- Lanie POV**  
"I wonder how they're feeling," I said, after I'd paced back and forth for the hundredth time. My hands twisted around themselves in worry. I looked out the window, where the glass was covered with rain.  
"They're probably fine. Remember, we have our own Peacekeepers around this," Claire said reassuringly. She'd done that a lot lately, soothed me. She'd been my lifesaver on this trip, so I didn't know how I'd be able to cope when I drop her off at district two.  
We stayed on the train like the other helpers, keeping it in order. The Victors, stylists and prep team had been offered the night to spend in the Capitol building. But how that's better than sleeping in the train, I don't know. The train was docked at the Capitol station, but Claire had stayed behind when we'd passed her district, saying she'd leave when we headed back to district twelve, knowing I'd need all the reassurances right now.  
And I did.  
"Fine?" I stressed. "He's probably just told them they'll be this year's mentors!"  
"Sit down and take a deep breath."  
"Okay."  
"Lanie?"  
"What?"  
"You're not sitting down."  
I sat down, but couldn't stay still.  
"Have you taken a deep breath?"  
I couldn't be bothered rolling my eyes at her, and made a big show of breathing in and out slowly.  
"Good girl."  
In the silence, there was the sudden sound of a door sliding open and closed. Claire and I raised an eyebrow at each other. Then I stood up and crept to the door.  
"Who is it?" she asked.  
"I don't know."  
"Could it be some obsessed fan trying to catch a glimpse?"  
"No… probably." But then, the door wouldn't have opened for them. "Stay here, right, Claire?"  
"And if you don't come back in ten minutes, I'll scream for help, right, Lanie?"  
Now I had the time to give her the eye-roll.  
The door slid open, and I stepped into the other carriage. In the dark, I missed the feeling of a bow and arrow in my hands. The objects of safety, for me.  
A couple of silent minutes as I crossed the half of the train that were the rooms of the prep team's. Empty, empty, empty… Noah's room. Empty.  
Nyal's room. Occupied.  
The dark figure on the bed was clearly out of it. He groaned. His tuxedo was still on, and so were his shiny leather shoes. Was it Nyal? Or some drunk Capitol citizen who had lost his way to his house?  
"Excuse me," I whispered, stretching out a shaking hand and tapping the person's immobile shoulder.  
Nothing. Soft snores.  
I fumbled around in the dark for the lamp on the bedside table. Found the switch and clicked it on. I gasped.  
There. On the bed. My Nyal.  
He looked better than I'd ever seen him since the arena. No sign of worry on his face, or a wrinkle of pain. With a trembling hand, I caressed his cheek, which was wet with rain.  
My nose registered the smell of alcohol on his breath, and I hadn't realised that I'd leant forward subconsciously. Drunk. But that wasn't right. Nyal never drank, did he?  
He stirred, and his hand moved to pull at his collar. I froze, but his eyes didn't open. His hand became limp again, landing on his chest. He must have been uncomfortable.  
I sat gently on the bed, so as not to wake him, and untied his tie. I placed it on his bedside table. I noticed that the material was quite damp. As were his jacket, his shirt, his trousers…  
Sighing, I unbuttoned his tuxedo. Then, sure that he was drunk enough not to notice, I slipped off the jacket. I tugged at one of his shoelaces, and the knots came apart. I took them off. As well as the socks.  
My fingers slipped on the damp buttons when I took off his shirt. He was heavy, and twice, I had to stop trying because I was starting to lose my balance.  
There were only his trousers to go, and I didn't really feel like taking those off, too. But the fabric was almost soaked, and the bed was becoming so as well.  
It was slightly awkward as I unbuckled his belt. It was better with him asleep, but I didn't know what this would look like to an outsider. Probably very bad.  
I hesitated when my fingers hovered over his trouser zip. I sucked in a breath and virtually took them off with my eyes closed. Knowing that leaving him near naked would be just as bad as him sleeping with soaked clothing, I rummaged through his drawers to find a shirt and trousers.  
When I turned back to face him, I found a problem.  
His eyes were open, and were studying me in the dark. Slightly confused. Mostly unfocused.  
I had half a mind to dump the clothes onto him and leave him to fend for himself, but by the look on his face, I knew that he'd probably try to put the shirt on his legs and his trousers on his head.  
It was good that he was this drunk. He probably won't remember a thing in the morning.  
"Sir… I think you should put-"  
"Lanie?"  
If I hadn't seen his mouth move, I wouldn't have guessed that it was him who spoke. His voice was hoarse, ragged from the damage of the amount of fiery alcohol that he'd drank.  
"I'm not Lanie," I said, stepping forward and reaching out to slip the shirt over his head.  
"Lanie," he repeated, and there was more surety in his voice.  
No. This wasn't good.  
I quickly put the shirt over his head, taking an arm to put it through the sleeve. He suddenly twisted his hand around in my grip, and his tight grasp imprisoned my wrist.  
"Sir-"  
His other hand seized my shoulder. He was strong. Stronger than I thought, especially because I'd thought the alcohol would slow him down.  
In my state of surprise, he managed to pull himself upwards and pin me to the wall. There, as my body slammed to the wood, I felt the culprit. The movement would have been gentle, if it wasn't for the liquor.  
A small breath exited my throat on impact. He had one of my hands trapped in between both our chests, and I was still too dazed to use my free arm. The smell of liquor on his breath was stronger in close proximity. I felt like I was getting drunk just from the potent smell.  
His eyes bore into mine and there was no sense in them. Just pain. The agony that I hadn't seen when he was fast asleep was there. Burning. Raging.  
All the alcohol had seemed to destroy the filter between his thoughts to his actions. Because there was no reason beyond the dark brown of his eyes. Just the darkness. And the memories marred by his drunken impulses.  
So therefore, I didn't anticipate his sudden choice to crush my lips with his.  
My gasp was stuck in my mouth, lost among the other emotions that were struck up. His grip on my arm tightened, and I didn't even think I could feel my right hand anymore.  
It was a weak attempt to try and push him away. My best hope would have been to drive the lamp into his head to knock him out for a couple of hours, but I couldn't do that to him.  
I had only ever kissed him once. And that was in the arena last year. Given the setting, I should have like this one more, but I didn't. Not when he wasn't thinking straight. And especially when the alcohol invaded everything.  
It was a short but hard struggle. Hard because he was so persistent. Harder because of the conflict inside me. Desire and sense clashed, and I found myself giving less resistance.  
I closed my eyes and shook my head so the contact disappeared. I twisted my hand and slipped it out of his grasp. But when I took his other hand off my shoulder, I felt a pressure behind my neck, and my necklace swung out of hiding into full view. His thumb had snagged the leather cord as I pushed it away, pulling the necklace out.  
There was a long moment where his eyes took in the silver key. And his ring. Before he could connect two and two together, I placed my hand on his neck. Locating the right point and squeezing my forefinger and thumb together, his eyes tuned out and shut.  
I wrapped my arms around him before he could continue his descent to the floor. His ring and my father's key clinked together when they landed on his head. Panting, because I didn't want him to spend his night on the floor, I hoisted him to the bed.  
A couple of minutes to fix his clothing and pull the quilt over him, and I fled.  
Breathing hard, I didn't make it further than the corridor outside his room. There, I curled up into a ball, leaning against the panelled wood and held my head in my hands. If Nyal had to turn to liquor to cope, then he wasn't coping at all.  
I felt a stomach-racking guilt for knocking him out like that, but I had to. Pressure points were something that my trainer had taught me in district thirteen. The pressure points were simply the pulses that were strongest. On the neck. Arm. Leg. Pinch it hard enough, long enough, and you cut off their blood supply. And on your hands, you have an unconscious enemy.  
Only Nyal wasn't an enemy. But what was he, then? I was only a helper. Someone he didn't know…  
How did he recognise me? Was it the eyes, maybe?  
It took a few minutes of quiet sobbing in the shadows before I could stop. Sniffling. Wiping my nose and eyes on my sleeve. Then sniffling again.  
The familiar puff brought me to my feet. At first, I thought that Nyal had come to again, but his door was still closed.  
"Lanie?" The word was a whisper.  
"I'm fine," I answered robotically.  
I looked up to my right, where I'd heard the voice, where Claire was standing. But Claire wasn't there. She was nowhere to be seen. Because it wasn't Claire.  
It was Peyton.  
She was wearing an electric blue, one-shouldered, floor-length dress. Her hair was sleeked into neat curls, not the frizzy mess that I'd recognised a mile away. But it was her.  
"Lanie?" she repeated. And likewise, there were glistening tear tracks all over her cheeks. Her eyes were fixed on the key and ring on my chest. Understanding dawned on her face.  
"Peyton," I said. "It's me. It's Lanie."  
A sob escaped her mouth as she knelt down next to me, arms outstretched. My best friend pulled me into a hug.  
"Did you suspect...?" I asked into her hair.  
"Yes." She pulled away, then choked out a small laugh. "Look so different."  
I laughed too, wiping away the last tear. "They had to change me."  
"Why are you here? It's so dangerous." Slowly, she transformed back to the old Peyton I knew, speaking so fast that it sounded like she was reciting a charm spell. Things about what's been going on, how Zavier's been, how she's been, asking how I've been, and some curses dedicated to Zelix and the Capitol.  
"… stupid, incompetent, son of a-"  
"Peyton," I said, cutting in. "Calm down."  
She nodded.  
I cast a furtive look around, then asked Peyton if we could talk in her quarters. She nodded. In her room, I drew the curtain across the door and turned on only one lamp.  
"Tell me," she said, practically bouncing on her mattress.  
"I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you some of it. But here's the shortest version. When I let the bomb go in the arena last year, they carted me away. Gave me a new face."  
"Who's 'they'?"  
"District thirteen."  
Her gasp was loud enough to wake up the train itself. "What?"  
"I know. Be quiet." I looked out the door, but of course, the curtain covered the glass. "Turns out, when thirteen was evacuated and people were sent into different districts, they did. But when the Hunger Games started, some people fled there again to hide their children. Saved them from the massacre."  
"So they're still there?"  
"Yes. My friend, Claire, the girl who serves with me, she lived there with her brother. But she wants to be back with her family, so I'm dropping her off there. Anyway, I've been living there ever since, training, keeping an extra eye out for you."  
"You have?"  
"Of course. Not like I'd leave my best friends, would I?"  
She smiled, but then her mouth opened in shock. "And… Nyal?"  
I winced. "Yes. I've been watching him too. The Peacekeepers on this train, their loyal to district thirteen. They have a lot of connections to other districts."  
"You haven't told me why you're here."  
"You've just been told that you're going to mentor this year's tributes, am I right?"  
She nodded. "I don't think Nyal took that well."  
"Well, if he thought I was Lanie and forced a kiss on me then… no, I guess not." I sighed. Should I tell her the truth? Tell her about the doom that was coming? Or should I leave it?  
Her eyes were searching my face, worried.  
I made up my mind. "Tributes are down this year, but that's not why Zelix is doing this. He wants us to pay. You to pay. He wants to kill any hope districts have of overthrowing the Capitol. He's going to send the mentors into the arena as well, Peyton. He won't stop until he's finished us all."  
She's quiet.  
"We're going in again." She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. She was taking this better than I did…going crazy, ballistic and hysterical, massacring all the dummies on the Training Room in district thirteen.  
"I'm sorry," I said.  
"It's fine... just give me… a second." She held up a finger, took in a deep breath, then opened her eyes. "Again?"  
"Yes."  
"And that's why you're here."  
"Yes."  
"To protect us? Take us away to district thirteen?"  
I hesitated. "No. But to protect you, yes."  
She nodded, then gasped. "Lanie! You're not going to jump into this again, are you?"  
"I-I…" I shifted sheepishly, because jumping into this had been in many of the scenarios I'd had for saving them. "I'm not going to let Zelix just think he could do this."  
For the first time, a trace of anger flared up in her eyes. "But he can, Lanie. He can. He drove Zave insane. He's broken Nyal-" I winced, "-and the Games are still going. All because he can."  
"That's why I'm here," I growled. "I want to stop all the things that he can do. I want to ruin him. Destroy him and his Games. I want to kill him, Peyton. And nothing will stop me."  
My words hung in the air.  
"Fine, Miss Melodramatic. But how about the others. Should I tell them?"  
"No," I snapped. "Rica already knows. But keep this from the others. It'll murder them if they know."  
"Not like they're not going to be murdered anyway," she muttered.  
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at her, so fast that she couldn't dodge it. She ripped the cushion away from her face and ran her fingers through her hair, which was now messed up, courtesy of me and the pillow.  
Oh, the joys my best friend and I have together.

I'm stuck! I know the action so far is bare minimum, alright, there's hardly any it in, but I'm getting there.

Sorry for the unintended hiatus, guys.

:D

Oh, and if there are any mistakes, just let me know. I wrote this chapter and didn't proof-read.


End file.
